The Nightingale Journals
by kimpy
Summary: Night nurse Bella Swan blogs about her experiences via "The Nightingale Journals." When Dr. Edward Cullen is named the PICU's newest Fellow, their attraction is undeniable, but can they remain professional? Epic banter and tensions result.
1. Let's Play Doctor

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: This is a new story. It takes place in a hospital, so there will be lots of medical situations; I will warn you up front for those who are squeamish. **

**Many situations in this story will be real, but fictionalized. The sex, however, is all from my wicked, dirty brain. While I'm sure some sex does occur in RL, in general, medical institutions maintain a professional environment and atmosphere. I'm not trying to imply this is how we all behave, because we don't; the personal relationships in this story are purely fiction. **

**Thanks to my adorable beta, naughtysparkle, for giving me her time and energy so freely. I love and appreciate you, bb. **

**Things I own: My fingerprints, which allow me to get narcotics out of the Pyxis dispensing machine. These same fingerprints are used to return everything that I don't give to my patients, however.**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**PROLOGUE**

_**Let's Play Doctor**_

_**Medical School**_

I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I have a fucking headache. I stayed up too late studying and the caffeine is simply not kicking in this morning. As if all that isn't bad enough, I'm just a stupid med student, who knows nothing, who's the lowest of the low rungs on the ladder. I happen to be working with a sadistic resident who eats a steady diet of medical students. By his attitude toward me today, the asshole is starving, and I'm his next meal. To top it off, the only thing to eat around here is a stale, crunchy bagel, and the only source of caffeine available is a pot of coffee that's so old it looks like sludge and is guaranteed to eat a hole through your stomach in less than 5 minutes. Things couldn't possibly be worse. I run my fingers through my hair, a bad habit of mine made worse by the stresses of medical school.

Since I was young, I've always wanted to be a doctor. I followed my dad around the hospital like his shadow, and the energy of being here is what I've always craved. I fully understand that med school is the time to do grunt work and earn the respect of your elders; I refuse to get by on my father's coattails. I wish to hell I didn't have a hospitl badge with my name on it, like every other med student, because all anyone ever sees is the word "CULLEN," and they're instantly aware of my parentage. I'm determined to make a name for myself on my own merits.

**~xXx~**

I'm not even consciously aware of the scent at first, being so lost in my thoughts. It wafts over to me in a subtle wave. It smells fresh, which is unusual in a hospital environment, and provocatively feminine. I've never smelled anything like it in my life, but I'm instantly aware that it is the best aroma in the world. I take a deep breath, trying to discern the subtleties of this bouquet. Citrus, definitely. Lilac, perhaps? Not cloying or strong, just clean, crisp… female. Without knowing what I'm doing, I follow the scent, like a dog following a bone. It's like this fragrance was created just for me. I'm utterly certain I will never smell anything this wonderful again.

I turn around the corner, and it hits me head on. Then I see _her._ Jesusfuckingchrist, all I can see is her backside, and I already want to fall on my knees and thank the heavens for the sight in front of me. The first two things to hit me, aside from her delicious smell, are her neck and her ass.

Her shiny brown hair is in a high ponytail, which exposes a neck that the sculptor Rodin would cry over. It's long, graceful, and elegant; it evokes the image of a swan. It screams out to be fondled and kissed. I'm certain if I could just lean into the crook, I'd find the most potent source of the aroma that's presently driving me crazy.

She has a slim waist that curves into a luscious, inverted, heart-shaped bum that I want to run up and grab; it's absolutely perfect. That's no small feat, because scrubs are designed to be utilitarian—no one looks good in them. No one. This woman, though, seems to break all the rules; you can tell she has a beautiful figure. I suddenly become aware that I'm standing in the corridor, like an idiot, with my mouth gaping wide open, staring at a stranger's ass.

The object of my affection must feel the blast of erotic energy I'm generating, because she turns around and looks straight at me, drool and all. I try to make up for my obvious leering by giving her my most charming smile. She responds in an amazing way—she flushes scarlet and gives me a beautiful, embarrassed smile. Her badge is framed in bright blue, the standard color for nursing students. Mine, naturally, is framed in green, since I'm a medical student.

_The med student lusts after the nursing student. What a pathetic fucking cliché._

She turns back around and quickly heads off in the direction she was originally walking. I just stand there and watch her leave. I must have made her flustered, because she trips over her feet, nearly falling to the ground. I make it a goal to find out what her name is, because she just became my new obsession, fucking cliché or not.

I bumble through the rest of my day, my mind focused on the beautiful stranger. Incredibly, I manage not to piss off my resident too much, so I actually leave at a decent hour for the first time in weeks. Because I'm a determined and tenacious kind of guy, I head straight for the Health Sciences building the second I leave the hospital, with one specific task in mind: to find out the swan girl's name. I walk through the med school and over to the school of nursing, where all the student photos are posted. Sure enough, I find my girl there. She's a senior nursing student, so she's close to graduation.

_No fucking way… her name is actually Isabella Swan? _

I study her picture closely. She has small, delicate features and a set of huge, brown eyes. Her dark brown hair is worn loose in the photo, hanging in over her shoulders in curly waves. I notice that it looks shiny, and it makes me want to run my fingers through it. She has a small, pert nose, and her lips are full, but not large; they look perfect for kissing. Just like her enticing little ass, her face is heart-shaped. It looks like Ms. Swan is doing her best to kill me slowly. Everything about her features tempts me and invites me in.

Naturally, my eyes wander south. Fortunately, her breasts are within the frame of the photo, so I can assess them without gawking at her in person. They appear to be wonderfully round globes, just the right size for caressing.

_God, what I wouldn't give to have my hands on them_.

It's as though she was made to my exact specifications; she embodies the physical ideal of my perfect woman. My dick takes notice of her rack, and I'm suddenly rock hard.

I hear someone coming, so I quickly take out my phone and snap an image of her picture. I want to acquaint myself with all her features in private. With my task complete, I do the only thing left to do: I go home and beat off to the image of that unique neck and hot ass, and all the wonderfully nasty things I want to do to Isabella Swan.

**~xXx~**

_**Second Year Residency**_

I'm on call tonight for the first time in the Pediatric ICU. Residents aren't assigned to the PICU until after we've completed our first year of residency. Otherwise, we simply don't yet have the skill set necessary to take on these more complex cases. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous, because I want to do a good job. My dad has a great reputation at this hospital, and it's important to me to honor him and his work. God forbid I should fuck up and bring negative associations to the Cullen name. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be an exemplary resident, because it's important to me to earn a reputation on my own merits.

My attending physician and I quickly go through rounds, which essentially details going through the unit, patient by patient. We cover a short history of the patient's illness, their issues during the past shift and a plan of care overnight. It's an easy way to get up to speed on our patient population, as well as to make mental notes about which patients might be troublesome on my watch. Fortunately, our current cases are fairly straightforward. After rounds, my attending goes off to bed, leaving me with the patients. Typically, I won't call them again unless a patient deteriorates dramatically, or someone codes. I go back to the doc's room and review patient orders.

A soft, sweet voice interrupts my concentration.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cullen?"

I turn around to see who it is, and I'm shocked to my core. It's _her._ Same beautiful, petite features, same beautiful body underneath the scrubs.

I clear my throat to make sure my voice doesn't crack from nervousness. "Yes?" It's lame, but it's the only thing I can manage to say at this point.

She walks over to me and extends her hand. "I'm Bella Swan, one of the nurses here in the PICU. I always like to introduce myself to the new residents, even though you'll probably never see me again. It's good to meet you, but I certainly don't expect you to remember my name."

"On the contrary, Nurse Swan, I never expect the nurses to remember _my_ name. You're here all the time, after all."

"That may be true, but call me Nurse Swan one more time, and I'll deck you. It's Bella, please."

"Well, then, you'd better call me Edward. I can't remember the last time anyone actually referred to me as Dr. Cullen."

"Do you find that you run into issues with that because of your dad?"

I chuckle at her question. "To be honest, if anything, it makes people refer to me by my first name even more. It gets a little confusing when there are two Dr. Cullens around."

"Your dad is an amazing guy. I have a huge amount of respect for him. It can't be easy to fill those shoes."

"Oh, believe me, I don't even try. I'll never be my father; I'm just trying to make a name for myself."

"That's really admirable."

"I'll bet that isn't why you stopped by though, is it?"

She blushes. _Just like when she caught me staring at her last time._

"No, it isn't. Actually, I just wanted to let you know that my patient with the ventriculostomy just had a temperature spike to 104.4. Do you want me to send cultures?"

"Yeah. Remind me again, we have a central line?"

"Yep. Draw from both ports?"

"Please. I'd like you to send a ventric culture, too."

"Well, you may want me to do that, but it ain't gonna happen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"We aren't allowed to touch the ventrics for cultures; we can only drain them. If you want those cultured, you'll have to call the neurosurgery fellow. Dr. Hale is on tonight, and if you're ready to have her rip you a new one for no other reason than you called her, have at it."

Bella is waiting for my reply when she suddenly starts giggling.

"What?"

"You look like you just ate a worm."

"How many people have you seen eat worms, Ms. Swan?"

"None until you, apparently. Don't worry; I don't relish talking to neurosurg any more than you do. They're the biggest pains in the ass around here."

"Yeah, they aren't my favorite. I'll talk to them and let you know."

"Thanks."

I watch her walk away, as mesmerized by her medical knowledge as much as her gorgeous ass. Okay, that's bullshit. It's mainly her ass. But she's incredibly smart, and I really admire that in a woman. I have no interest in being with someone who isn't as intelligent as I am, nor as intellectually curious. Bella Swan not only appears to be a genuine and kind-hearted person, but she's also quick as a whip. In short, she is my ideal woman, mentally _and_ physically. I make it a goal of mine to get to know her as well as I can in the four short weeks that I'm assigned to the PICU.

**~xXx~**

_**PICU Fellowship**_

"Are you absolutely sure you want to take the fellowship, Edward? You could easily go into private practice, you know."

"Dad, you know I've never been interested in that. I'd be bored senseless in that kind of a setting. I want to be an attending physician for the PICU; the best way to accomplish this is to do my fellowship there."

"I understand. I just needed to be absolutely certain your mind has been made up. You've never chosen what was easy, although you certainly could have. I can't tell you how proud I am that you've challenged yourself more than any of your peers. Dr. Cullen, welcome to Seattle Children's!"

My father is beaming with pride, and it fills me with a great sense of personal satisfaction. I've always wanted to make him proud of me, and to live up to his example.

"Thanks, Dr. Cullen," I reply. "It's all I've ever wanted."

**~xXx~**

During my first night as a fellow in the PICU, we have a patient who is being airlifted in from rural Washington. His heart is beating so rapidly that we're concerned it will conk out soon. Kids are remarkable in that they can deal with a lot of stressors put on their bodies, but when they start to decompensate, they deteriorate rapidly. It sounds like this might be the case.

When I get to the patient's room, I find out that Bella Swan is going to be the admitting nurse. As excited as I am to work next to Bella, I can only hope I won't be distracted by my attraction to her. I get into the Dr. Cullen zone in my mind, and ask her to give me a rundown of what she knows about the patient. She's thorough, precise, and prepared. Even if she wasn't so stunning, I'd still be impressed. Bella is clearly a very talented nurse.

The patient arrives in full cardiac arrest; the flight nurses are doing chest compressions and bagging with oxygen. I quickly assess the patient and we start to run a code. Bella is right there, guessing accurately what I'll need next. She has an extraordinary ability to size everything up and predict what the situation might call for. She's calm, an excellent communicator in a tense situation, and essentially leads the team. I'm fucking lucky as hell she's across the bed from me.

_I'd love it if she was across MY bed. I wonder what she looks like when she wakes up in the morning…_

"Dr. Cullen?"

"You did a really great job in leading the team during that code, Isabella."

"Actually, people just call me Bella. I'd prefer if you call me that."

"Yeah, I know… I just wanted to get your goat," I tease. "You've always gone out of your way to be so welcoming to students and residents."

"We're in the mutual admiration society, then—I was really impressed with how you handled yourself. You made it seem like you've been doing it for years. "

"I have been doing it for years, Bella. I completed my residency, after all."

"I'm aware of that, Dr. Smartypants. I just meant you were a lot more poised than most fellows on their first shift."

"Fair enough. I always remember you as one of the kindest nurses on this unit, but definitely one of the most skilled and professional, too. Even when I was a second year resident, you treated me like I was someone. I never forgot that."

"Really? I believe it's important to be respectful of everyone, because we were all students and noobs once upon a time. Why be mean when you can establish a good working relationship with someone?"

"Well, then, I look forward to establishing a good working relationship with you, Bella Swan."

I turn and exit the room with one thought in my head: _Bella Swan will be mine, if it's the last thing I do._

**END NOTE: To clear up any questions that may have arisen while reading this:**

**Typically, medical school is a four-year commitment. Once you graduate, you're officially a medical doctor.**

**Residency is a three-year commitment, and most medical doctors go to a different program for their residency than they did for medical school. A typical rotation in residency is four weeks. During that time, they're assigned to cover specific patients in their area. When they're on call overnight, they're responsible for all the patients in that unit.**

**Fellows have completed residency but want additional training in a particular field. The length of a fellowship varies, but it can be 1-3 years. While fellows have more clout than residents, it is the attending physicians who call the shots and run the show.**

**A ventriculostomy is a needle placed inside the skull to drain excess cerebrospinal fluid from the brain and relieve pressure, to track the intracranial pressures, and to keep track of how much fluid is collecting every hour.**


	2. The New Residents

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Aceipey allowed me to borrow her son, Spike, for this chapter. He is all kinds of cute and I simply had to incorporate him into the story. **

**Things I own: A pair of z-coil work shoes that put a spring in my step. Literally. They also make me a few inches taller, which is a bonus, being that I'm 5' tall.**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who gives me spanks for encouragement. ILY, bb.**

**CHAPTER ONE: THE NEW RESIDENTS**

**BPOV**

It's the beginning of July, and our new residents are starting today. We only get second and third year residents in the PICU; first years aren't yet skilled enough to care for our more complex patients. To be honest, some second and third years aren't either, but that's beside the point. The bottom line is that the clock is reset every July, and the first few rounds of residents tend to be really conservative and careful. It's like pulling teeth to get a fucking dose of morphine. For your patient, that is. Suffice it to say, most of us hate the month of July, and we all try to take vacation during that time. Since I've only been here for five years, I'm lower in seniority and never get the vacation I ask for.

Residents cycle through the PICU in four-week stints. They rotate through the PICU twice during their residency—once during their second year, and once during their third year. A different resident is on call every night; when they're on call, they're responsible for all of our patients for twenty-four hours. There are four residents for each rotation, so they're on call every fourth night. During the day shift, all the various doctors are on duty: residents, fellows, attendings, surgeons, and specialists. The attendings run the show. They are full-fledged physicians who have been hired to cover the PICU patients. They're also responsible for training the residents.

The PICU pecking order is as follows, in terms of who ultimately gets to call the shots:

Attendings

Specialty physicians/surgeons

Fellows

Residents

Med school students

Well, they call the shots, but it's the bedside nurses—led by the charge nurse—who really run the show. We're the ones who are with the patients for a twelve-hour stretch, so we get to know them far better than the docs do. Our input and feedback has a direct impact on patient outcomes. In fact, any good doctor will tell you that the nurse's perspective is the most important piece of data out there. Personally, I make it my mission to help new residents learn and understand this very important tenet of ICU care, because it will serve them well to learn this early in their career. I sigh deeply to myself, acknowledging that I'm going to need a great deal of patience over the next 6 weeks as we get the new residents broken in.

From across the hallway, I hear laughter and a deep, familiar voice, which draws me from my thoughts. It is a voice so distinctive, I would know it anywhere. It is gentle, lilting, and silky smooth. The accent is British. The profile of Dr. Cullen flashes in my head, his beautiful blonde hair streaked with subtle grey coloring. His clear blue eyes. His perfect skin. Some of the older nurses talk about when he was younger, how hot he was. Never mind the "was" part of the equation—he's still absolutely beautiful, and a kind, generous soul on top of it.

I direct my attention back to my patient, and in a few minutes, the voice is directly behind me.

"Good morning, Nurse Swan."

"Dr. Cullen, you know you're the only one who can get away with calling me that…and only because you say it in that lovely accent of yours. What are you doing here so early? I usually don't get the privilege of seeing you before my shift is over."

He laughs heartily at my comment. I turn around to face him, and suddenly, it's as though I was hit by a cement block.

_Edward Cullen? The fuckhot son of the fuckhot daddy!_

"To answer your question, I'm making the rounds this morning in lieu of Dr. McCarty to introduce our new PICU Fellow, Dr. Cullen, to everyone on the floor."

"Oh, that's right. I heard something about the new Fellow starting this week." I have to act ignorant, because otherwise I might let it slip out just how fuckhot I find Edward Cullen to be.

_God, I remember him as a resident. His biceps always showed so nicely, poking out of his sleeves. His hair was always just schmexed. Even then, I wanted him, as inappropriate as that would have been. Time has been very, very good to you both, Drs. Cullen._

Edward Cullen looks me straight in the eyes and I feel lightheaded. He's impossibly good looking, and he flashes this killer grin at me. I remember it perfectly, he lifts one side of his mouth into a smile, so it's all crooked, and it is equal parts playful and smoldering.

_Damn, those eyes. I forgot how green they are. Perfect and rare, just like every last bit of him. _

"Now, it was important to me to introduce Dr. Cullen myself, to fend off any rumors of nepotism. There was a selection process that we used, and blindly rated the candidates. It just so happens that my son came up with the highest score, and thus he was offered the job."

"You must be really proud. He'll be following in your footsteps, starting in the PICU just like you did!"

"Indeed I am, Bellar," he slides my name out with his adorable accent. "But don't let him off easily; I expect you to challenge him, like you do to everyone else."

"I promise that I will make his life interminably difficult, just for you, Dr. Cullen."

"Good! He needs to learn from the best nurses we have!"

"Carlisle Cullen, you are so full of BS! I'm sure you use that accent of yours to get whatever you want!"

"I can speak from experience; he is especially slippery when it comes to convincing my mother to do his bidding."

"You know, Edward, I could stop introducing you at any time."

"All right, Dad. Point taken. It was nice to meet you, Nurse Swan."

"Oh god, not you, too! It's Bella! I don't want to have to get violent with you, now!"

He just smiles and gives me his signature smirk, and the two of them get on their way.

_Shit, I'm going to be in big trouble with that hot piece of ass hanging around here. How the fuck am I supposed to ignore that?_

**~xXx~**

There are several kinds of official code designations within the hospital. There is code red, which is used in the event of a fire. Code pink is used when a child is abducted. Code orange is used for natural disasters. Code blue is the worst, used whenever a patient stops breathing. The very, very worst? _CODE BROWN._

"Swan! There's poop everywhere! Can you please give me a hand?" Jasper begs. He is an incredibly good nurse, extremely empathetic with patients, until they poop. I'm convinced the previous charge nurse put him in that room deliberately, knowing he would be unable to change assignments. He's in the room with Spike, the Rotavirus kid. Rotavirus is a very, very nasty illness that results in constant poo, and it has this sickly sweet, distinctive odor. It's awful, and Jasper is in there gagging constantly.

"Oh come on, Jasper. You're a man—a little poop never hurt anyone. Just take a deep breath of that lovely, sickly sweet odor. Kind of makes you a little disappointed we see Rotavirus so rarely, hmm? Plus, look at that kid, he's so adorable! How can you resist his messy red hair or those green eyes? He smiles at you even while pooing, and you can see those two teeth on the bottom row; how can you not love that face? His hair is almost messier than Cullen's. Seriously, Spike is a major league adorable patient."

Jasper is unable to answer because he's making gurgling, hacking noises. I'm not sure where the idea comes from, but suddenly, I know exactly how we're going to initiate Dr. Cullen to the PICU. I quickly explain my plan to Jasper, then get the secretary to page Cullen. It will only be heard in the PICU, not anywhere else in the hospital.

_Paging Dr. Cullen, Dr. Edward Cullen. Code brown in room five-oh-one. Code brown, room five-oh-one._

Cullen comes peeling out of the Doc's room towards room 501. He quickly walks over to the room, stethoscope around his neck, serious business written all over his face.

I follow him into the room, where Jasper is in the midst of Spike's diaper change. Spike uses that moment to sit up and smile at Edward.

"Wha? I thought—is this the wrong room? Where is the code?" Edward asks, his face a study in confusion.

Jasper and I start cracking up. Dr. McCarty walks in to see what we're up to.

I attempt to clarify for Edward what is happening. "Did you listen to your page carefully, Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes, I did!" He says adamantly. "A code was called for room 501, but this patient is just fine. Look, he's smiling at me for god's sake!"

Dr. McCarty pats Edward on the back. "They pulled a code brown on you, Cullen. As in, poop. You just got PICU punked, dude!"

McCarty leaves the room, shaking his head and laughing. The three of us direct our attention back to Spike, only to find that he has Cullen's cell phone in his hands. Hands that, just moments previously, had been all over his messy diaper. I'm now certain I'm going to pee in my pants due to the look on Edward's face. I don a pair of gloves, grab the germicidal wipes that can kill any microorganism, and clean off Dr. Cullen's phone for him, demonstrating that we are good sports in the end.

"You're going to be absolutely dangerous, aren't you Swan?"

"You're a very smart boy, Cullen. You'll have no trouble fitting in here. Consider yourself initiated."

**~xXx~**

It isn't long before we have a real code, because we are a PICU, after all. It's a fairly common occurrence. For all the drama and intensity a code has when it is shown on TV, the real thing is a far different kind of beast. There is still drama and intensity, but it is so controlled in comparison.

Whenever a Code Blue is called, we have staff from the PICU travel to help resuscitate the patient. When it occurs in our own home, there is a special button we push that calls the code team to our bedside. To the untrained ear, it is a fairly innocuous sound. To PICU staff, however, it is a call to arms. Anyone who is able stops wheat they are doing and travels quickly to the center of action. A code cart is wheeled to the patient's room, which contains everything we need: code drugs, like epinephrine and atropine; syringes, IVs; equipment; and a defibrillator, among other things.

For the first code I attended, I was shocked. I expected screaming, upset people, disarray and confusion. What I experienced was a calm, quiet attitude, wholly focused on keeping the patient alive. Everyone had a role, and it was defined within a split second. It was amazing to me, watching my colleagues in action. They never once stopped to think about what they were doing—it was as if it was hardcoded into their brains. I never expected to do enough codes to get that comfortable with it myself, but a sad fact of my job is that I could easily code someone with cool efficiency after waking up from a deep sleep.

Dr. Edward Cullen's first code is a sight to behold. It feels wrong to put it in such terms, but he is such a different breed from the Fellows we've had in the past. He is supremely confident, but not cocky; compassionate, but tough; calculating, but human. It's almost as if he was born to do this job, much like I feel I was born to do mine. I'm surprised that someone this young has so much poise, but the same could be said for the elder Dr. Cullen. The man is a legend. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for Edward to try to follow in Carlisle's footsteps. He has the brains, the physique, the looks, and the personality to do anything he wanted to in life. The fact that he chose to do what his father does, knowing up front the reputation and respect that man has earned, says a great deal about Edward Cullen's character. He never takes the easy way out. He is committed, determined, and driven. It makes me wonder what he might be like outside of work. Could he possibly be that…_perfect?_

The patient happens to be tiny, so I am doing chest compressions by placing my hands around the chest, essentially squeezing it with every compression. My fingers are on the patient's back, and my thumbs are over the sternum. There is a Respiratory Therapist opposite me, delivering breaths to the patient with an ambubag, the oxygen cranked up to 100%. There is no Attending on site, so Edward is in complete charge of this code.

Like any good, experienced doc, he is constantly asking questions to ensure he has the best data available with which to make decisions.

"What was the heart rate when you started compressions, Swan?"

"The lowest rate I saw on the monitor was 54." In general, when pediatric heart rates are 60 beats per minute or less, you start chest compressions.

"What time did you start?"

"I pushed the code button and immediately started compressions. It has been about five minutes."

"Give point one of epi per kilo. What is the patient's dry weight?"

"He's four kilos."

"Okay, do it. Give the epi."

"Epi's in, Dr. Cullen."

"Stop compressions for a second." I see him watch for a rhythm on the monitor, but it is still erratic.

"Okay, start compressions again."

There are a lot of things you don't think about when you are an observer of a code. One of them is how hard it is to do CPR, even on a baby. It's exhausting, because you use a set of muscles that you don't frequently use otherwise. In this case, the muscles below my thumbs, at the base of my palms, were killing me. They start to cramp up after a surprisingly short amount of time. Sweat starts to pour down your face, and because you need to keep your gloves clean, you have to simply let it run down into your eyes. We trade positions with other nurses, but it is an intense, focused mission that you're on, and sometimes you forget the simple things, like switching positions.

The code continues for about ten minutes. We're able to get the heart restarted and beating at a normal sinus rhythm. As we start to clean up, I watch Edward assessing the patient. He has a look of absolute concern and focus. Even though the patient is stabilized, he still isn't finished. He looks over to me, and asks if the latest lab results are back. They are, so I read them off to him. He tweaks the patient's ventilator support and asks me to send follow up labs in thirty minutes.

He takes one more listen with his stethoscope, then he surprises me. He puts his thumb in the patient's small hand, and says something softly to him. I can't hear the words, but the meaning is clear. He's asking the little guy to rally and hang in there. I've never seen a doc exhibit such obvious compassion, at least not so overtly. Don't get me wrong; the docs care deeply about saving the lives of children, or they wouldn't do what they do. The difference is that they all remain relatively detached. It's usually the nurses who aren't afraid to show the patients love and care. To see such a gesture from Edward is unexpected. It also makes me hope, for his sake, that he doesn't have a problem with the patients haunting him in the hours he isn't at work.

I see in his face genuine compassion. Unlike so many physicians, this isn't about playing God to him, or stroking his ego. It is about the patients. About making their lives better. His entire approach, his comportment, speaks to his care for the child. I'm surprised to see him in that light because, as I said before, it is so unexpected.

In this stolen moment, I acknowledge to myself how striking Dr. Edward Cullen is. I'm not the kind of woman who is on the hunt for a doctor. I find the cliché of the doctor-nurse pairing both condescending and outdated. That is one of the main reasons I've eschewed dating doctors; I have no desire to spend the rest of my life answering the withering glances I would undoubtedly receive. Still, looking at his caring, beautiful face, I have to rethink my hard limits. For Edward Cullen, I might just make an exception to my rule.

**~xXx~**

"So, Alice, I decided to officially start this blog I've been talking about. I decided to call it 'The Nightingale Journals' and my blogger name is going to be BellaLuna. Isn't that perfect? For night nurses?"

"Are you going to write about real things that you experience? I mean, how are you going to keep it HIPAA-approved?"

"You can make it generic enough to remove certain details, like the patient's name and gender. The reader will still be able to the gist of the significance of the case."

"I think it's a great idea, Bella. I can't wait to read it! Think of all the funny work stories you'll finally be able to spill!"

"I know, right? Since I can't get Dr. Napoleon back without being fired, I can at least harp about it in my blog. That does give me a small sense of satisfaction."

I decide my debut blog will be an introduction into why I chose to be a nurse. It will do a good job to set the tone of the blog.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals Begin**

I can remember the exact moment when I decided to become a nurse. I was 14, and my mom was recovering from her first surgery for Stage III breast cancer. I was scared as hell, worried about losing my mom, and grossed out by all the tubes and crap that were coming out of her body. I was pretty squeamish as a kid. My dad sat in the chair next to her bed, holding her hand and speaking quietly to her. My mom had two nurses caring for her—one worked during the day shift, and one worked overnight.

Her night nurse was kind and gentle, treating my mom with such respect and dignity. She did whatever she could to make my dad and me feel welcome. The day nurse was another matter entirely. It almost seemed like she hated being there. In that respect, I totally understood, because working with cancer victims had to be draining. She was terrible to us, though, and wasn't nice to my mom. That, to me, even as a 14 year old, was unacceptable.

The defining moment came to me when my mom complained about her bladder feeling full. The nurse said to her, "Oh don't be ridiculous, Renee! You have a foley catheter in so you don't need to urinate!"

My mom quieted down, but she kept whimpering because of the pain. The nurse came to give her some morphine to stop her whimpering, and my mom was able to get some sleep. When her night nurse came in, one of the first things she noticed was that my mom's catheter was kinked, which didn't allow for any urine to flow out of her bladder. When the nurse unkinked it, nearly a liter of urine poured out. Her nurse was absolutely disgusted when we told her the story of the other nurse, and she reported the incident.

I vowed at the moment that I would become a nurse, so that other people wouldn't have to suffer the way my mom did, and that there would be one more compassionate nurse out there in the world, who truly wanted to help others. I never once wavered from my goal from that moment forward. If anything, my mom's death from cancer made me more steadfast than ever.

I've been a nurse for five years now, and I absolutely love what I do for a living. 95% of the time, I leave work feeling fulfilled and satisfied, like I've contributed a small amount of good to the world. It's an incredibly hard job both physically and mentally, but it's worth every sore muscle, tired foot, and headache it causes. The fact that I can give love, encouragement, and compassionate care to a patient for twelve hours is all I need to keep me going. It's a beautiful thing to love what you do.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 8:02 AM 0 COMMENTS

**~xXx**

**EPOV**

Dr. McCarty stops by to review a couple of patients with me, in order to prep me for the upcoming night shift. He lets me know that Bella Swan will be my charge nurse this weekend, so I'll be in good hands. I take a huge amount of satisfaction knowing that Bella's colleagues all think so highly of her. It just proves that my attraction is absolutely warranted. When McCarty spills that Bella started a nursing blog, however, my curiosity is far more than piqued. I feel as though I've just been given a window to peer into her psyche and get to know her from the inside out. I get the website address for her blog, and make it a point to bookmark it.

_Bella Swan, you and I are about to become intimately acquainted, and you don't even realize it._

My plans to make Bella Swan mine have just zoomed ahead of schedule.

**A/N: If you need a good website for searching any of the medical terminology I mention in this chapter, I find www (dot) emedicinehealth (dot) com. Or you can simply go****ogle it. Like **_**adrenaline rush**_**.**


	3. I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: The term **_**Cullenlingus**_** belongs to Ninapolitan, I just like to showcase it all the time because it is so win.**

**Things I own: A bottle of generic caffeine pills, two pounds of Starbucks Espresso Roast coffee, and two 24 packs of Diet Coke**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**My eternal thanks to my beta, TFX/naughtysparkle, for devoting her time and energy freely. She's always willing to pre-read sections of the story, and I simply love her for all that she does.**

**CHAPTER TWO: I'LL SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD**

My name is Bella, and I am an addict.

_Hello, Bella._

My colleagues all know this, yet they support my habit. In fact, many of them are addicts right alongside me. Apparently, we reinforce one another's addictions.

My brain screams out my addiction when it hasn't had enough of what it needs. It nags at me via that telltale throbbing headache, until I cave in and give it what it wants:

_CAFFEINE_.

I need to be a finely tuned and calibrated machine of efficiency to endure a twelve-hour shift in the Peds ICU. Typically, this equates to four shots of espresso before I leave for work, a twelve-ounce can of Diet Coke at midnight and another at three AM, and occasionally, an additional caffeine boost. This is what's required to keep my body functioning in the middle of the night.

Because I am an addict, I never go anywhere without my stash. In my purse, in my work bag, in my car, you will find the signs of my addiction. Pill containers filled with No-Doz. Packets of Starbucks' Via instant coffee. Gift cards to Starbucks. The evidence against me is staggering. My addiction is so fierce, however, that I can no longer hide it, so I don't even bother to try.

The most caffeine I've ever required for one shift was six shots of espresso and three Diet Cokes, but that was following the worst night of sleep I've ever had. I had slept only five hours out of fifty, thus I needed caffeine frequently to remain alert.

My body is eternally confused. Before I was a night nurse, I used to wake up at the crack of dawn, naturally. I couldn't sleep in if I tried. Now? I can fall asleep on command, because it is what my body always wants. Needs.

For the most part, nurses work twelve-hour shifts. There are a few people who do eight hours, but if that is the option you choose, you work every other weekend. Choose the twelve-hour shift, and you work every third weekend, and you get a week off in between your cycles. For me, of course, it's a no-brainer, but I don't have any other relationship commitments like a significant other or children.

The most amusing aspect of working nights is the unwritten rule that the badge of honor goes to the individual who has had the least amount of sleep. That's right, if you woke up after three hours of sleep, you make damn sure that your colleagues know about it. It's like a strange form of competition; even the docs brag to one another about how long they've been awake. To show how skewed our reality is, the lack of sleep is normal for us; we never question it or try to determine whether it is right or wrong.

While some of my colleagues have genuine difficulty achieving quality sleep when they're in the midst of their work cycle, I usually don't have that problem. There are certain tricks many of us use in order to sleep when our bodies naturally want to be awake. Melatonin is a given; it helps you fall asleep and isn't addictive. Earplugs are also critical. Without them, I tend to wake up whenever the phone rings or any other unexpected noise occurs. Sleep shades over the eyes is also important, because it tricks your body into thinking that it is dark outside. Your circadian rhythms want you to be awake when it is light outside. In fact, if I don't get to bed within thirty minutes of arriving home, it becomes increasingly more difficult for me to fall asleep and stay asleep.

This is simply the story of my life. When you work the night shift, sleep always comes at a premium, but it is a premium I am completely willing to pay.

**~xXx~**

I'm awake, on my bed, naked. I lean back on my elbows and part my legs. It makes me wish that Edward were here. Suddenly, there is a knock on my bedroom door.

"Bella? May I come in?"

_JFC, I'm naked! Where the hell did I leave my robe?_

I quickly pull the sheet up to cover myself.

"I'm ready."

The door flies open, and Edward stands there, bare-chested, only his scrub pants on. I can tell it is a commando day, and silently offer up prayers of gratitude.

He takes one stern look at me, brows furrowed. "I thought you said you were ready?"

"I _am_ ready!"

"Then why are you covering up your body? Why are you always hiding from me?"

"I don't know you very well yet. We're colleagues. We're not supposed to do this sort of thing. It's professionally inappropriate."

"Bella, I thought we'd gotten past all of this. You weren't going to hide from me anymore. You told me yourself that you wanted me. You asked me to come for you."

"I did?"

"How can you forget so easily?"

I stop for a moment to ponder his question. Was I really turning down the chance to have Edward Cullen in my bed?

_No fucking way._

"I remember now. I do want you. Are you sure it's all right?"

He's instantly at the end of my bed. He has a look of determination and lust, and I can feel the sudden presence of my wetness down below.

He unties the string to his scrubs, and they fall to the ground. I can't see his cock, but I want to. I'm dying to know if it's as beautiful as he is.

"When my cock is this hard, Swan, it is the one sure sign that it is absolutely, positively all right."

He leans over me, placing his hand on one breast and taking the opposite nipple into his mouth greedily. He touches me perfectly, in exactly the way I need him most. How does he know what I need?

Using my fingers and his incredible head of hair, I press down, encouraging him to take more of me into his mouth. I'm not afraid to ask for what I want. I need him so badly, and I've wanted him for so long. I don't want to waste a single second together without being hell bent on both of us achieving complete sexual bliss. I'm a very firm believer in the concept of mutual sexual satisfaction.

It seems like all my colleagues complain about sex with their partners—either their partners want it too frequently, or not frequently enough. In fact, I think Jasper and Alice are the only two who never complain, and I know firsthand they are extremely sexually satisfied. Having been their roommate for five years, I know they rarely venture out of their quarters when they have a day off. That's the model I want to emulate, should I ever find someone with whom to share my life.

"Mmmm, Edward, your mouth feels amazing."

"I haven't even gotten you where I want you yet."

He slides his tongue along my cleavage, then starts a line down my torso. He stops at my navel, snaking his tongue around the outer rim, and I feel a jolt right to my clitoris. As my hips involuntarily thrust in response, a devilish smirk blossoms on his face. The combination of his smirk, his adoring eyes, his _I-just-got-schemexed_ hairstyle, and tongue darting out of his mouth causes me to utter the loudest moan that has ever escaped from my throat. I'm instantly embarrassed, feeling my face flush.

"Bella, that was the most amazing sound I've ever heard. Please don't be embarrassed about it. In fact, my life's work is going to be earning that sound from you at every opportunity I can."

_Fuck me. If I were wearing panties at the moment, they would have definitely exploded._

The only reply I am capable of is a sort of groan/whimper/gasp combination that sounds ridiculous. It's almost as if my subconscious has burst forward onto the scene, and reached back from the human evolutionary chain to grab a pre-verbal noise from my ancestors. Edward is apparently on board with that noise, however, because he is instantly on my slit, parting my lips with his incredible fingers, and running his tongue from bottom to top. He finishes with a moan over my clit, and I've never felt anything like it. Sublime doesn't even begin to cover how I feel in that moment.

As Edward delivers the most exquisite cunnilingus in the world on my lower lips, I feel his hands on my breasts, pinching at my nipples, and him nibbling on my mouth. His tongue slides inside, as he moans again. In my mouth and on my clit. I feel as though I'm being touched everywhere; Edward's body is ubiquitous, seeming to reach every one of my erogenous zones simultaneously.

_Wait a minute, THIS DOES NOT COMPUTE. Edward Cullen, M.D., has only one mouth and two hands. Ten fingers. Three of which are inside my pussy at this very moment. _

I pause my analysis of the situation to scream at the heady sensations Edward is in the midst of giving me. All I want to do is fuck my analysis and let myself go to feel every ounce of pleasure this man's body is poised to give me.

_A body that has a normal number of appendages. _

I open my eyes unwillingly to assess what kind of fuckery is at work here. The face that greets me possesses crystal blue eyes. Blonde hair speckled with gray.

_Wha? Who? But…Carlisle Cullen?_

I don't know what to think or believe. Edward is giving me the oral pleasure of a lifetime, and Carlisle is macking on my lips and servicing my tits? What the fuck, Cullens—WHAT. THE. FUCK?

_Mmm, talk about Cullenlingus. Those boys know how to use their tongues._

"Would you like me to suck on your tits while Edward makes you come?"

_The accent alone makes me totally wet. It's as velvety and warm as Edward's tongue down below. _

"Just relax, Bella. Let go for us."

I don't have time to assess the situation any further, because Edward chooses that moment to bite down on my clit, sending me over the edge. With my mouth, breasts, nipples, clit, and pussy all receiving stimulation at once, it combines exponentially to give me the best orgasm I've ever had. Wrong though it may be, I'm in heaven. Seriously, this much pleasure can only mean I'm dead and in heaven, because it is celestially divine.

Suddenly, my alarm rings, and all I want to do is turn it off and go back to my incredible dream.

_Oh my fucking god, I just had a wet dream in which I was double-teamed by Edward and HIS FATHER? How the hell am I going to face him at work tonight, knowing that he made me come so hard? All I'm going to see every time I close my eyes is the vision of both of them moving over me!_ _On top of everything, I didn't even get to see if Carlisle had a parka or not. What kind of useless wet dream is that? Yes, I am going straight to hell, but at least the company there will be fun._

It's at that exact moment I understand that I need to quit denying how attracted I am to Dr. Edward Cullen. He has just shifted from not only being nearly every waking thought of mine, but also has invaded my thoughts while I'm asleep.

**~xXx~**

I'm walking into work with our coffees when I see Edward. My face flushes instantly in response to the dream I recall.

"Bella, are you all right? You're all flushed."

He reaches out and touches my forehead, then my cheeks, using the back of his hand. I want to grab it and make him keep it there forever. The touch is at once reassuring and intimate. You don't stop to assess someone unless you care about them, right?

_Yes, Bella, and the fact that he is a doctor, that he's on call tonight, and you're the charge nurse have nothing at all to do with it._

I need to seriously get out of my delusional state and back into reality. STAT. I hand him his cup of coffee, and he gives me a big, wide smile.

"This, nurse Swan, is exactly why I love you. No matter what, you keep me energized."

"Cullen, don't make too much of it—the gesture is entirely selfishly motivated."

"Meaning?"

"I need you to stay awake and alert tonight, because we're filled to capacity and it is going to be one hot mess around here."

He looks a little disappointed.

"Don't take it so hard—you're the only doc I buy coffee for, so it can be our little secret."

His face brightens a bit.

"I promise not to rub it in any of my colleagues' faces" he tells me in a stage whisper.

**~xXx~**

I glance up to see Edward approaching the charge nurse station. There are two computer terminals here, one for the charge nurse, and one for the attending doc. Edward spends more time at the charge nurse desk than in any other location. It's unusual, because the docs tend to congregate in their workroom. Leaving themselves exposed at the center desk invites people to find them, and ask questions, and exponentially increases their workload. Edward, however, has never shied away from sitting there. It's just one more way in which he differentiates himself as above and beyond his colleagues. He really is an amazing doctor, and also a superb human being. If he were an asshole, it would make things a lot easier for me.

I hate it that I like him so much, because it only serves to complicate everything. I want to make sure we can continue to work together in tandem, because neither one of us is going anywhere anytime soon. I need to work hard to keep things professional.

While I'm pondering the nature of our working relationship and my attraction to him, I glance down to his junk region. I don't mean to always focus there, I just can't seem to help myself.

_Oh, fuck no, Cullen! You CANNOT go commando when I'm working charge! I need to be capable of lucid thoughts this weekend. Seeing your pretty package moving all over does not leave me with lucid thoughts. Wicked thoughts? Lusty thoughts? Erotic daydreams? The need to reach out and touch you? The proper response to every question I ask is an unequivocal YES. Sadly, lucid thoughts do not appear anywhere in that scenario._

I honestly don't know what's gotten into me. I feel like I've turned into a teenage fangirl overnight. I've never had this much of a problem being professional with a colleague before. True, none of my colleagues are even close to approaching Dr. Cullen's smoking hotness, but still—I find myself frequently distracted and thinking improper thoughts.

_Oh god, like my dream! What was with that all about, anyhow?_

Once again, I make a mental note to myself to research dream interpretation, and quickly get back to my work before anyone catches me ogling our Fellow.

**~xXx~**

The liver transplant kid in room 5 is headed south—that's not a good thing. Because there are so many blood vessels in the liver, and it's such a critical organ, complications can arise at any time. Most of our liver transplant patients come back from surgery with a Doppler in their hepatic artery. It's hooked up to a microphone and allows us to hear the blood flow (it sounds like a beating heart). When the sound starts to diminish, it means the blood flow is decreasing, and that's usually a bad sign. It is easy for clots to form, which in turn suffocates the transplanted liver.

Alice calls me at the charge nurse desk and asks me to come take at look at the liver patient. He is nearly twenty-four hours out from surgery, but his color is off, and his Doppler is diminishing. A normal child's belly is nice and soft, and you can feel the edges of their liver and spleen. This patient's abdomen is firm, which could mean that blood or fluid is pooling there. Alice tells me that she informed the resident of the change in the patient's status and received no orders, so I understand it's time to step things up a notch. I walk back to the charge desk and meet Edward's eyes half way there. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was watching me, but that's just nonsense.

_I really need to purge that dream and get back to reality._

"Dr. Cullen, could you please come assess the liver kid? The Doppler has been diminishing, and his belly is now almost firm to palpation."

"Of course. Lead the way."

I don't know why, but that makes me blush.

"You're still feeling flushed? Are you sure you're all right?"

I cough a little to cover my surprise. "Yeah, I'm just fine, thank you. Glad to know someone cares around here."

"Swan, I'd be screwed without a good charge nurse, you know that. I need to keep you in tip top shape!"

_I just heard and saw the word 'screwed' come across Edward Cullen's lips. I think I just sprained my brain imagining him doing just that. Gah!_

"Right, charmer. You're going to be trouble for me, aren't you?"

He gives me his most earnest look. "Who, me? I thought I was supposed to be the good guy!"

"Oh, you're all sweetness on the outside, but I wonder if underneath that superhero exterior you're hiding the bad guy."

He cocks an eyebrow at me. "I'm hurt, Swan, truly hurt. My ego has been mortally wounded."

As we're bantering and walking toward the liver patient's room, the code light flashes. We look into each other's eyes, seeing the alarm there, and quickly walk to the room.

"Alice, what happened?"

"His pressure just tanked. I can't get a diastolic reading. Look at his belly!"

Edward already has his gloved hands on the patient's abdomen. The drainage tubes coming from his belly are full of bright red blood. Frank blood, meaning it's fresh. Meaning, the patient is bleeding out from somewhere, most likely his liver.

Dr. Cullen's actions are quick and decisive.

"We need to push normal saline. Ten mils per kilo. What's his dry weight?"

Alice is right there with Dr. Cullen, ready to do what needs to be done.

"It's fourteen kilos."

"OK, push one-forty. Now."

There are at least five other nurses in the room, all willing to help out and fill a role.

"Jasper, please grab the crash cart."

I start recording everything that is taking place. What drugs we are giving, the times they are given, and vital signs. I ask our secretary to page the surgeon and the transplant team STAT.

"Dr. Cullen, we have pages out to the transplant and surgical team. When they call, we'll patch them through."

Fortunately, we have surgical and transplant fellows still in house. They arrive at the bedside about ten minutes after we begin the code. Edward quickly explains to them all the steps he's taken, and turns the decision making over to them as to whether or not they want to bring him back to surgery and open him up.

Unfortunately, these fellows have decided to take this time to pull rank on each other.

_Oh hell, no!_

I watch them, standing at the edge of the bed, in front of at least a dozen different people, arguing about how to save the patient.

_Are they fucking serious? This kid is dying, and all they can do is try to outdo each other?_

Edward tries to butt in and get them to focus on the patient. After about five minutes of this bullshit, with the patient's blood pressure precariously low, I lose it.

I hate to get emotional at work, unless it involves being happy or laughing. Tears? Nope. I don't have time for them. Sadness? Again, doesn't help me to do my job. Anger? Doesn't change a thing. So when I've gotten to the point where I'm pissed off, you need to watch out, because hell hath no wrath like an angry nurse Swan.

I'm REALLY pissed off just now.

I walk quietly over to the ventilator and pick up a small measuring tape. We keep it at the bedside to measure the patient's breathing tube, making sure it's in exactly the same place at the start and finish of each shift. I take it in my hand and throw it on the patient's bed, in front of their faces. The movement is enough to make them shut up while they stop to look at the measure. It's the medical equivalent of _Oooh, pretty shiny thing_!

They both look at the tape measure, then back at me, questioningly.

"You two need to get your dicks out, measure them, and get over this pissing contest! There is a patient who is dying, and arguing about whose is the longest does no one any good. Now, are we going to surgery, or are you going to continue resuscitating here?"

They look at each other, and shrug their shoulders.

"Well? Yes or no?"

The surgery fellow slinks away to call the OR and get a suite prepared. The transplant fellow steps aside and calls in the transplant team. Alice and I prep the patient for transport downstairs.

It takes a village to get an acutely ill child from the ICU to the OR. The patient is on a portable monitor as we travel, so we know exactly where their vitals are at any given point in time. A respiratory therapist accompanies us in the event they are needed. Usually, another nurse is present to help wheel the patient down, because we have the bed and all the IVs to move at once. It requires incredible coordination between all three of us to move the patient quickly and efficiently. Edward is coming down too, just in case the patient gets more critical en route.

We wheel the patient directly into the surgical suite, give our report, and hand him off to the surgical team. Alice leaves to go back to chart the code, while Edward and I return together, at our own pace.

"Shit, I am going to get into so much trouble over that tape measure comment. Why do I do this to myself?" I whine as I whack my forehead with my palm.

"Are you kidding, Swan? That was hilarious! No one ever shows up the surgeons—it's _always_ about who has the longest dick with them. How awesome is it that a nurse put them in their place? I'd kiss you right now for doing that, but I'm afraid that would be rather unprofessional."

_Yeah, and? I don't mind being unprofessional…_

I just chuckle in response. I'm not going to let him think I am diametrically opposed to the idea, after all.

My stomach rumbles loudly. I've been so busy, I forgot to eat dinner.

"I'm pretty hungry, too. Do you want to order Thai? I've had a craving for it lately."

"Mmm, I love Thai. You never need to twist my arm for that."

Once we're back up on the unit, I bring the menu to Edward.

"Oh, just get me some chicken pad Thai."

"That's my favorite, too! I'll call it in, okay?"

"Sure, but it's on me."

"Why are you buying? We can split it, Cullen."

"No way, I owe you big time for the entertaining tape measuring stunt."

I have a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Don't say that. Jesus, I'm going to be in such hot water for that."

"For what? Saving the patient's life? Seriously, Swan, I was about two seconds away from calling them on it myself. They were extremely unprofessional in there, and you just forced their hand. There's no shame in that. You were advocating for the patient at a time when no one else was. Sure, you could have chosen different words, but would it have had the same effect? Since when do surgeons listen to anyone but themselves? No, I think you did the right thing."

Surprisingly, my stomach feels much better following Edward's comments.

"Thank you for that, Edward. You really made me feel better just now."

"I'm happy to let your supervisor know, should she become involved. I'll totally step up to the plate for you on this one."

"See, I should be buying you dinner. That's really generous of you, and I appreciate it."

"Well, I appreciate working side by side with such an incredible nurse. You guys never get the appreciation you deserve. When you think about it, you're the ones who really make the difference for a patient, because you're with them all the time, monitoring and watching. It's incredible."

"You keep up on that path, Cullen, and we may even make a murse out of you yet!"

**~xXx~**

Our food arrives, and Edward and I go to the doc's room to eat in relative quiet. For the first few minutes, neither one of us says a word, because we are so hungry. It's one AM.

Admittedly, I'm distractedly watching Edward out of the corner of my eyes. He's using chopsticks to eat his meal, so I get to see his long, thin fingers work their magic. Then I watch his tongue dart out and take the noodles into his mouth. When his lips close over the chopsticks, and he pulls them out slowly, it is pure torture. I want to put my tongue in place of the chopsticks. I want to put his fingers on my body. I want…

My thought is stopped dead in its track when I look into Edward's eyes and notice that he's been watching me watching him. _Fuck!_ I feel my cheeks flush again, as I choke on my dinner. He tries to intervene, but I hold up my palm to signal to him that I will be fine.

"Bella, are you truly sure you're all right? You keep blushing all the time." I hear something in the tone of his voice—a smile, perhaps? Is he amused by how much he distracts me?

"I'm fine, and if you ask me again, you may soon be singing your solos as a soprano."

He makes a move to cover his junk.

_Oh, the junk, please, please do not distract me with the junk!_

I yawn, realizing it's past time for my next caffeine infusion. "There is no rest for the wicked, which is so unfair, because I haven't even had the opportunity to be wicked tonight."

"I'm pretty sure the surgery fellows would disagree with you."

"No, I mean I haven't had the benefit of being wicked. If I'm going to be really wicked, I want it to count."

"Hmm, interesting. What kinds of things count as 'wicked' in your book?"

I give him a coy response and smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He swallows hard and states, "Yes, I would."

"Maybe sometime, Cullen, but not tonight."

I reach for the fortune cookie at the same time he does, and our hands touch. It's an electric moment, and we both look at each other, eyes wide.

"Did you know that if you don't save the fortune, it's bad luck?"

My mouth drops open. "Oh my god, I have a canister at home that I use to store all my fortunes, seriously! I can't believe you said that. I was sure I was the only one in the world who is superstitious about fortunes."

"What does yours say?"

I hand it to him, and he hands me his.

He reads mine out loud: "_Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together as they do in you_. Wow, that really has you pegged."

I snort in response, "Yeah, right."

"Why do you say that? It's not news to anyone that you are both attractive and highly virtuous. Those are practically the defining qualities of Bella Swan. Ask anyone, they'll agree with me."

My cheeks are hot again. I know he notices, because he just smiles, saying nothing. He doesn't need to; we're both well aware of what's occurring.

"Well, yours says, _That special someone loves to see the light in your eyes_."

"On second thought, maybe you're right. That is a load of crap."

"Actually, it isn't. Your eyes do kind of light up when you're in your element. I've seen it when you are talking to some of your patients. It sets you apart from the other docs. You sincerely care and are fully committed to what you do, to a much larger degree than anyone else. Whatever you do, Edward, don't let systems, or politics, or rivalries take that away from you. Okay?"

He gives me a beautiful, genuine smile. His whole face comes alive when he smiles like that. "Sure thing, Swan. I promise."

Edward's pager goes off, and he looks at it, groaning. "I think you were saying something about 'no rest for the wicked,' earlier?"

He stands up to stretch, and his scrub top and t-shirt ride up enough for me to get a glimpse of his happy trail. He's not super hairy, he's just right, and it gives me the urge to pull down his pants and see just where that trail leads, among other things I should not be thinking about when it comes to Edward Cullen.

"Swan?"

_Shit. I am so busted!_

I bring my eyes up from his package to his face; this isn't the first time that has happened today, and Edward knows it.

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see that blush again." He snickers and walks away.

FRIDAY, MARCH 5, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_ALARMED_

When you work in an ICU setting, there are so many alarms going off that it feels as though you're insane. There is rarely a moment for silent reflection. At the moment, I'm surrounded by a cacophony of noises, none of them pleasant.

It is easy to be cavalier about the sights and sounds in an ICU when you work there; we're all so used to it that it becomes merely background noise. In a split second, I can differentiate between a mundane alarm versus one that requires immediate attention. I know the sound the EKG monitor makes, and how it differs from the syringe pump and the ventilator. I can tell the difference between a "nurse request" alarm and a Code Blue alarm. There are alarms for infant warmers and for dialysis machines. I know when my in-house phone is ringing in contrast to the sound the room phone makes. The bottom line is that while I may know the differences in these myriad sounds, parents and visitors do not.

This fact was recently brought home to me when I cared for a child who had experienced a respiratory arrest because his caregivers were not paying attention to his alarms. As a result, he ended up requiring 45 minutes of resuscitation and had a "hypoxic brain injury." In layman's terms, he brain function was significantly impaired.

As a result of this incident, the boy's parents were untrusting of the hospital staff, and almost clinically anxious about the alarms on various pieces of equipment in the ICU. His mother kept asking me why the alarms were going off, and I had to try to explain to her the difference between warning alarms and imminent danger alarms. It wasn't easy, because there are a lot of alarms you begin to tune out when you know they aren't important. To the untrained ear, however, it all sounds either bad, or worse.

For instance, all our syringe pumps, which we use to deliver IV medications, alarm twice: First, to let the nurse know the syringe is _almost_ empty, and second, to let me know when it _is_ empty. Neither one of these alarms means anything dire. When flashing red lights go off along with the alarm, however, parents can become hesitant to believe you that it is no big deal.

Recently, our unit went through a major reprogramming of all our syringe pumps in an attempt to thwart infusion error and increase patient safety. Along with the reprogramming, however, they change the tone, the volume, and the frequency of alarms. As a result, you can hear syringe pumps from rooms several doors away from yours. Three of our rooms are three-bed suites, and in these rooms, it can become difficult to determine exactly where an alarm is occurring. Nurses frequently ask each other, "Is that you, or me?" referring to any alarm that occurs.

There is a phenomenon documented in medical journals known as "ICU psychosis." It is a state of being where an individual becomes, for all intents and purposes, psychotic as a result of their ICU stay. It is a temporary condition, but until the psychosis resolves, the patient needs to be treated as though they are in a psychiatric hospital. Anti-psychotic medications are given to help control the symptoms, and we try to minimize use of narcotics, which can exacerbate their acute illness.

With all the noises prevalent in the ICU, this, too, can lead to worsening symptoms for patients. What is more surprising to me, however, having worked in such an environment, is how more nurses manage not to succumb to ICU psychosis listening to alarms bleep for 12 hours at a stretch.

It is not uncommon to go home after a shift, get settled into bed, and be driven to distraction because you hear phantom alarms in your head. This is especially true when a nurse is overtired and the shift was particularly intense. I've had colleagues report that they sometimes hear what they think is an alarm, look around for its source, only to find nothing there. It's like an earworm to the worst degree.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 4:15 AM 0 COMMENTS


	4. Ten Reasons to Love a Nurse

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Priapism is mentioned in this chapter. It means: "P****riapism is a persistent, usually painful, erection that lasts for more than four hours and occurs without sexual stimulation."**

**Things I own: A personalized tape measure that I use at work. TRUFAX.**

**Things I do not own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to the creator, Stephenie Meyer.**

**Thank you to Trin/TFX/naughtysparkle for her snappy beta skills, as always, even as she adjusts to being back in the real world after a lovely time in LA. **

**CHAPTER THREE: ****TEN REASONS TO LOVE A NURSE**

It's all McCarty's fault. I wish to hell he hadn't told me about Bella's blog. Well, that's kind of bullshit. I'm grateful to know about blog, because it has helped to shed light on what makes her tick. At the same time, it has made me even more obsessed with her, if that's possible. And _that _is all McCarty's fault.

I already knew so many things I loved about Bella Swan, before the blog even began. Aside from the fact that her physical appearance seemed to be generated from the naughtiest crevasses of my adolescent brain, I knew she was highly intelligent, wickedly funny, loyal, trustworthy, and pragmatic. The very idea that she isn't interested in dating doctors makes her appealing to me. I, too, have no desire to date a nurse whose sole intention is to find a cute, rich doctor she can marry and then get around to procreating. I want a relationship like my parents have—deep, meaningful, intense, passionate, and respectful. They still act as though they are two teenagers who met each other for the first time just hours ago. To have the ability to remain connected for so many years, on so many levels, always seemed unattainable to me.

I always assumed I'd end up alone, married to my profession. I've seen too many colleagues get married, only to divorce when the reality of a doctor's life became abruptly clear to their spouses. I'm not making light of the fact that being a doctor and a spouse is challenging in the best of times. However, if anyone can appreciate the professional demands placed upon a resident, fellow, or attending, it's a nurse. Getting to know Bella Swan has opened the door of possibility for me that, some day, if I'm the luckiest bastard on the planet, I might have a chance at a relationship that matches my parents'.

The worst thing about following Bella's blog covertly is that I can know about it, but I can't let anyone else know that I know about it. McCarty wasn't even supposed to know about it, so he swore me to secrecy. While technically it isn't wrong for me to be following, she would no doubt be embarrassed if she knew that someone from work was reading her posts. If it ever comes up, I will absolutely tell her that I've read some of them. I'm just hoping we never have to have that conversation.

Last weekend, when Bella and I worked together while she was Charge Nurse, I can honestly say, without any hesitation, that it might have been the best three days of my life. While that might sound like hyperbole, I assure you, it isn't. When you have the chance to work with someone that closely, you gain an incredible level of intimacy. It rivals your closest friendships. When you join forces to save a life, there is a bond and connection that takes place, deeper than anything else I've ever experienced. To work that closely with Bella is like a religious experience. I've had a Come-to-Jesus-Meeting and found the light, and it is otherwise known as Bella Swan. Dammit, I am going to do whatever it fucking takes to win her over. I'm past the point of "getting to know you" drink dates, or superficial outings. I simply _know_ that she is the only one for me, and I intend to win her heart forever, no matter how long it takes.

_Failure is not an option_.

**~xXx~**

I finished up my evening rounds and got caught up on my charting, so I decide to swing through the unit to see if anyone else needs me.

As I walk down the hall, I hear Bella's twinkling laughter spill out from a patient's room. When I walk through the door, I see the resident is in there with her, causing her to laugh. She is smiling at him with a genuine sense of joy.

_What the hell is Newton doing, flirting with Bella? She is so out of his league it isn't funny!_

"Hey, Newton, don't you have some lab orders to review?"

He looks startled to hear my voice.

"Oh, I was planning to do that a little later, I guess."

"I'm pretty sure we've covered this before… it's important to stay caught up all the time, because you never know when an unexpected admit is going to arrive in the middle of the night. I heard some murmuring from the ER that they might have some admits brewing for us, so it's probably a good idea to go get that stuff taken care of now."

"Sure thing, Edward. I appreciate you looking out for me, dude."

"Any time, Mike. Any time."

_Gotta nip that shit in the bud the minute it happens. Once again, failure is not an option, and neither is losing Bella to someone like Mike Newton._

"Cullen, what was that all about?"

"What?"

"The little power play that you just did with Newton. Was that really called for?"

" I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh come on, Edward. I'm not stupid and I'm not naïve. There are no admits brewing in the ER, or you would have told me about them. Plus, renewed lab orders don't need to be entered until one AM. He could have easily waited. Why were you so eager to get him out of here?"

I walk over to stand by Bella, and notice she has the patient in her hands. He has cords, tubes, and drains all over the place, but she has him bundled in a blanket. His tiny head is on her shoulder, and she's gently patting him on the pack while rocking him back and forth as she shifts her hips from side to side. I've never seen her holding a patient before, and I'm completely taken aback. If I thought she was beautiful on her own, her face while holding a baby is stunning. She has a glow, a serene gaze, and it looks as if she was born and bred for this specific purpose. In the moment that I take her in, I see a small flash of what our future could entail. I imagine her holding our son, rocking him easily, softly giving him words of love and encouragement. As wrong as it may be, I want that with her. We've never even been on a date, but I want her in my life.

_Might as well face it. I'm fucked._

"Because I didn't want him to be bothering the nursing staff. Between you and me, he isn't the brightest resident in the group right now. He needs to pay more attention to the details, and he also needs to work in a more timely manner."

While I'm speaking, I watch her nuzzle her nose in the patient's hair, and she takes a deep whiff.

"Swan, are you _huffing_ that baby?"

Her face flushes. "What? They smell so good! That clean baby smell, it's irresistible. I dare you to try holding a freshly bathed baby and not huff in that scent. It's one of my favorite aromas in the world."

I smile as she says this, knowing that every word is perfectly true. "I'm just giving you shit. I totally agree with you."

Bella shakes her head at me, smiling back, and leans over to lay her patient in his crib. As she does so, her scrub top hangs open, giving me a perfect view of her cleavage and the top of her rack. I want to reach out and touch it, but I quickly look away, knowing I can't get caught ogling the nursing staff.

She looks up at me, catching me averting my gaze away from her. _Busted_.

"Cullen?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see if you would blush."

"Touché."

"Oh, and Edward?"

"Yes?"

"If you don't want someone to hang around me in the future, just say so. No need for subterfuge. Newton is harmless, and I don't date doctors. Maybe you've heard that already."

**~xXx~**

He looks up at me from the vantage point of his desk, steaming mug of coffee in his hand. "Edward!" He says, looking genuinely pleased to see me. "How is our newest pediatric Fellow doing?"

I smile at him and have a seat in front of the desk. "Dad, I know you already know how I'm doing…but from my perspective, things are great."

"That's true, but I wanted to hear it from your own point of view. I'm so proud of you, you know. I've heard incredibly good things about your performance so far."

I chuckle, knowing the truth of what he tells me. "Clinically, everything is going just fine. But I'm here to talk about something personal," I explain, my tone turning more serious.

"You know I'm always here for you, personally and professionally. You're my son first, and a doctor second. Always."

"I know, Dad. That's why I'm here. There's a… um, a problem… I'm having with a certain staff member of the PICU team."

"Is this serious enough that I need to intervene, Edward?"

"No, no, god no, nothing like that, Dad. The problem is _mine_, not anyone else's."

"I think the easiest way to say this is simply to say it."

_Jesusfuckingchrist, I had no idea this would be so difficult to admit to my dad._

"It's about Bella Swan, actually."

"Really? Has she done something?"

_Yes, Dad, she has given me a nasty case of priapism, and I'm afraid to go the ER to get it checked out._

"Honestly? Between you and me, she's thrown me for a loop. I'm constantly amazed by her, and I think I might be interested in her."

"You know that's exactly how I met your mother; she was a nurse when I became an attending here. Of course, things were different back then, so no one's eyebrows were raised when we started dating."

"If it ever comes to that, is it even possible for me to date Bella?" When I say that out loud, it sounds so pathetic. I need to moderate things a bit. "I mean, not that it will ever come to that, I'm just curious. Hypothetically speaking."

My dad smiles at me, and I see everything in that smile: acceptance, love, care, compassion. I'm sure that smile is one of the main reasons patients feel at ease with him, and one of the many reasons I look up to him.

"As long as Bellar isn't a direct report of yours? You can do whatever you like. Since nurses never report to doctors, it clearly won't be an issue for you, at least from a rules standpoint. She _is_ an amazing woman, Edward, and I've always been very attached to her. She's as good a person as she is a nurse."

"I know! That's exactly what I see every time we work together. I've never met anyone like her. I'm just struggling with the fact that she's a nurse. It's so fucking clichéd to date a nurse."

"Remember that I'm married to one."

"I didn't mean any offense. It's simply that things are so different now than they were when you met Mom."

"Regardless, I fully support Bellar as a candidate for your heart. She has nearly every quality that makes for good relationship material."

"I know, that's the problem. I just hope I can convince her I'm worth her while."

My dad grins at me. "Somehow, I don't think that's going to be a problem for you."

Something in my dad's statement reminds me of the other reason I came to see him—an image of Bella throwing the tape measure at the surgeons flashes in my brain.

"Oh, Dad, one other thing: do you still have that urologic ruler? I wanted to give it to Bella."

My dad looks completely confused. "You want to give Bellar a urologic ruler? Somehow, I'm not sure that's the key to her heart."

I explain the scenario to him, because I know my dad will love the story of Bella standing up to the asshole surgeons. He belts out with a hardy laugh in support of Bella. "Now that's exactly what I'm talking about—you would never question where you sit with her. She has no problem handing you your balls on a platter."

The thought of Bella and my balls being intimately acquainted, even if it means she chopped them off, makes my mind, and my dick, go to unsafe places. Unsafe in front of my dad, that is.

"Right! I think she'll love the ruler, and I won't mind her using it when she needs to."

"If it helps you have an in with her, Edward, I would be happy to buy you a case of urologic rulers," he replies, searching in his drawer for the ruler. He pulls it out and places it in an envelope, then hands it over to me. "Here you are. Good luck with that."

"Thanks, Dad. You know your support means everything to me." I embrace him in a manhug.

"Like I said, I'm so proud that you are my son. Every time I see you, that pride is reinforced."

I stop at his door and turn around. "Uh, Dad? It's probably best if you don't mention this to Mom. You know how over excited she gets about any date I have. If she finds out about Bella, I'm worried she won't be quiet about it."

My dad chuckles. "Yes, you're probably right. She's anxious for you to settle down. I'll let you cover that topic with her at your own pace."

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

**~xXx~**

I swipe my badge to get into the PICU and wait for the doors to open. I'm pleasantly surprised to find Bella Swan standing in front of the doctor's workroom; she appears to be looking for someone. I clear my throat, and she turns to look me straight in the face.

"I have something for you."

We both say it at the same time. Bella has a look of astonishment on her face.

"_You _have something for _me_?"

Why would that be so surprising? Am I a selfish prick around her? God, I hope not. As her astonishment turns into sly satisfaction, I start to feel a little bit better.

"Since I surprised you so much by being unselfish for once, may I go first?"

"Of course." Her familiar blush spreads over her beautiful face.

I take out the envelope my father gave me and hand it to her. Her eyes grow big in anticipation.

"Go on, open it."

My excitement and anticipation are running high. It makes me understand why people can enjoy gift giving so much. It's never meant anything to me before, because I've never had someone I want to dote on. Suddenly, it makes me want to buy Bella Swan everything her heart desires, just to have that amazing look of joy reappear on her face.

She carefully opens the envelope and slides out the ruler. She places it on her palm and looks at the inscription. She reads it out loud for me.

"Urologic ruler." She looks at me with her big brown eyes, clearly confused.

I give her a clue. "Look at the measurements."

It's yellow with black writing on it.

"Edward, this is just a ruler. A 12-inch ruler."

"Is it? Are you certain of that?"

"Yes…" I can see her trying to work it out in her brain, but it isn't clicking. Suddenly, her eyebrows pop up.

"WHAT? Oh—is this… oh my fucking god, it is!"

Bella quickly runs to the charge nurse desk, rifling around in the drawer. She finds what she is looking for, pulling it out. Everyone at the desk is looking at her with aroused curiosity.

Her giggling cackle rings out. She is jumping up and down with excitement, and I notice her tits are also jumping up and down.

_Maybe she needs someone to stabilize them for her while she jumps…_

"OH MY GOD, EDWARD! It is, it is! Where did you—I think this is the funniest…"

I can't help but smile in smug satisfaction. To be honest, her reaction is better than anything I could have imagined, and it feels fucking incredible. It seriously makes me want to recreate this feeling daily, if not hourly. I'm on a total high, having pleased her so well.

Bella runs up to show her colleagues. "Do you see what Cullen gave me? It's a six-inch ruler that looks like it's twelve inches!" She waves it around for everyone to see.

"Edward Cullen, you have NO idea how this is going to come in handy some day. I just know it!" She gives my hand a little squeeze, and it goes straight to my cock.

_Once again, thank christ for lab coats._

"Now, I think you mentioned that you have something for me?" I'm dying of curiosity to see what she has planned.

"Oh! That's right! I totally forgot! I left it back in the doc's room."

She turns to leave, glancing back at me. She notices I haven't moved.

"Come, on Cullen! It'll be worth it. I promise."

She's like the Pied Piper of Hamline—I'm mesmerized by her, and cannot stand still. Where she leads, I'm compelled to follow.

When I turn the corner, I see her holding something in a plastic bag, but her facial expression has changed from excited to wary. I wonder what caused the sudden change.

"I'm kind of second-guessing why I bought this. It was a little impulsive of me. When I saw it, it reminded me of the comment you made last weekend, about how important nurses are to the patient's outcome. I thought you might like it."

She hands me the package sheepishly.

I take it from her hand, but keep my grip on her, attempting to reassure her. She looks at me and flushes.

"Bella," I tell her gently. "There's nothing you could get me that I wouldn't enjoy. Truly. May I?" She nods her head silently, biting her lip.

I pull out what appears to be a t-shirt. It has the wording, "Ten Reasons to Love a Nurse" on it. I smile instantly.

"Oh, Swan, this is going to be good!"

I read the reasons out loud.

No body part scares me

Defibrillation—I can thrill you with one touch

I'm used to working all night

Who else will ever encourage you to pass gas?

I've flipped bigger people than you in bed

No dinner conversation will ever gross me out

DRUGS—I know them all

We have a code for every color, even brown

I know the proper way to tie you to a bed

Hit the right button and I'll come quickly

The images conjured up in my mind of numbers 9 and 10 distract me momentarily. I look up at Bella and see her flushed and looking extremely embarrassed, and quickly retrench.

"What, Bella? This is great!"

She shakes her head silently, looking disgusted with herself. "It was a bad judgment call. I'm sorry Cullen. It just had the code brown line, and the working all night, and it seemed really funny at the time. Now, with you reading it out loud like that? It all seems highly inappropriate."

I put my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "You know that there is nearly nothing you can do that will upset me, right? This is all really funny stuff! I'm not offended in the least. In fact, I'm touched that you thought of me when you saw this shirt. I will wear it with true pride. I promise."

She looks up at me, a little less embarrassed. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"Thanks, Cullen. I was hoping you'd take it the right way. I had a feeling we have the same sense of humor."

"Wicked good sense of humor, hell yes!"

Her smile makes me melt. The woman has absolutely no clue about the effect she has on me. No clue. I'm about to take a leap of faith and give her a glimpse.

"So, is it all right if I take you to dinner sometime? And try to gross you out?"

"Yeah, right, Cullen. Look, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but that really won't be necessary."

"Taking you out to dinner?"

"Yes."

"So, you won't have dinner with me? Why not?"

"Take me out to dinner? Me? Are you being serious?"

"I would never kid you about something like that. Plus, we need to renew our fortunes, don't you think?"

"So, eat dinner together, like friends?"

_Oh shit, does she really think I don't want her?_

"Well, something like that. For now, at least."

"Sure, Edward. We can go to dinner together sometime. I'd like that."

"Pinky shake on it? So I know you're serious?"

"You're such a geek," she says, shaking my pinky nonetheless.

"Perfect. I intend to collect on this promise very soon."

"Riiight. Whatever," she smiles at me sarcastically, and walks away. I simply focus on watching her hot ass as she leaves.

_Dr. Edward Cullen, you and your palm have an important date with your cock in the physician's bathroom in t-minus thirty seconds._

FRIDAY, MARCH 18, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_FRIENDS AND FAMILY_

When you work with someone for a twelve-hour stretch, three days in a row, you gain a certain intimate knowledge of their lives. This intimacy can be stronger than one you share with your spouse, your partner, your best friend, and/or your family. Indeed, it isn't surprising that affairs in a hospital setting are common, because some people see their colleagues more frequently than they do their significant others.

The type of bond my colleagues and I share is intense and unusual. In some ways, it is not unlike two actors on a movie set. When you spend day after day with the same person, all pretenses can be stripped away. This is especially true in a high-stress area, such as an ICU or ER. There is something about standing across a dying patient's bed, looking into one another's eyes, uniquely focused on saving a life, that draws people together. I've said many times that if ever I were dying, I would trust any colleague from my regular crew with my life. That trust has to be implicit; there is no room for second-guessing. If the trust isn't there, and never gets earned, a person's chance of success on the unit dwindles. It may sound cold and callous, but it is simply a fact of survival—evolutionary theory brought into context in the ICU. When it comes to crunch time, you need to be able to trust your colleague's every move. When you don't, or cannot? That's when mistakes occur.

Recently, we hired a new PICU fellow. He is a brilliant man, with the highest level of personal integrity and fortitude. He has chosen to work in an area where his father is also a distinguished doctor, yet he is determined to earn accolades solely on his own merit. I worked as charge nurse with him recently, and it was then that I realized the two of us share this intimacy I've been talking about. I've never grown so close to a colleague so quickly, but when we're together, we have a superb clinical synergy. We just click. I know what he's going to say before he even says it. The choices and decisions he makes are spot-on the same ones I would make. I'm so used to disagreeing with doctors, having to fight tooth and nail to get them to listen, that working with him seems surreal and perfect.

I've never before been challenged to keep a relationship professional before now. I have a very clear work/personal attraction force field in my brain. Colleagues have always fallen in a realm akin to incest; it's just taboo. Thinking of them in a non-work connotation simply never even occurs to me. It isn't as though I haven't seen beautiful doctors before, but for some reason, this one is different. He has me rethinking my hard limits on being attracted to a colleague. On dating a colleague. On dating a doctor. I feel like my world, my precise, well-delineated, clinical world, has been turned upside down. Everything that once made sense to me is now topsy-turvy. I wonder if I haven't fallen down the rabbit hole and ended up in Wonderland. I'm going to do my best not to drink the Kool Aid, but if it is offered to me by a beautiful, green-eyed prince, I might not be able to resist.

The one caveat? I suspect that my green-eyed prince is batting for the other team. He asked me to have dinner with him sometime, so the only conclusion I can draw is that he wants to be my GBF. He is, after all, a pediatrician. It is common knowledge that the good ones are either taken, or gay. Dr. Green Eyes is not taken, so he must be gay, right?

_Help_._ I think I'm falling in love with a gay man._

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 4:15 AM 0 COMMENTS

**EPOV**

My heart skipped a beat. Can it be possible? Is she talking about _me_?

_Fuck me, the only woman who really matters in my world thinks I'm_ gay_?_

**END NOTE: GBF=Gay Best Friend**

**One of my favorite readers told me about the urologic ruler. My beta, the lovely TFX, sent me the "Ten Reasons to Love a Nurse" countdown. There are pics of both on my Live Journal page: kimpy0464(dot)livejournal(dot)com**


	5. Who Needs a Parka?

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: There is a section in this chapter containing information about uncircumcised penises, so if that squicks you out, you've been warned. **

**My use of the word "prepuce" is just for ladyeire72. She knows why.**

**Thanks to TFX for always reading the shit I offer up to her, holding my hand when I'm scared to cross the street, and being the best spooning snuggly bunny on the planet. I 3 you, bb; never say that often enough. **

**Things I own: A water wiggly. It's actually my son's, but we all fight for turns to play with it. In a non-pervy way, of course.**

**Things I don't own: A parka peen. Oh, or anything Twilight, because that is Stephenie Meyer's domain.**

**CHAPTER FOUR: WHO NEEDS A PARKA?**

_Fuck._

As soon as I wrote the words, I knew they were true. Edward Cullen, M.D., the fuckhot, available, amazing man himself, is gay. It's the only possible conclusion one can draw.

In the immortal, eloquent words of Ram Sweeney from the movie _Heathers_, "Jesus God in Heaven. Why'd you have to kill such hot snatch?" To borrow and paraphrase, I ask the same type of question, "Yeah, Jesus God in Heaven, why'd you have to make a man as beautiful as Edward Cullen gay?"

I need to make one thing perfectly clear here—I love gay men. Hell, my best friend in the world is gay. I appreciate their thinness and neatness, "not that there's anything wrong with that." Because there isn't. However, I don't want the man I'm falling in love with to be lumped into that category.

_Oh my god, am I obligated to hook him up with Jake now? _

Um no, that is not gonna happen, no matter how much I love Jake. I'm just going to pull a Nina Borowski, like in _The Object of My Affection_, when Jennifer Anniston falls in love with Paul Rudd's character, even though she knows he's gay. It can work, right? A girl and her GBF?

Which brings me full circle back to _fuck._ Edward Cullen is gay.

I decide to take my mind off this depressing topic, so I need something capable of sustaining my interest. I open up my laptop and type in the words "foreskin restoration" in Google, for shits and giggles. I need something epic to draw me out of my funk. Anyone who knows me understands that I have a parka fetish.

When I was in nursing school, I dated an Englishman for a little while. He was a doctor, and I met him at a party of a mutual friend. We hooked up, and I found out, up close and personal, that British men are typically uncircumcised. I'd never really given the concept much thought, seeing as most American men are circumcised. It looked kind of funny to me at first glance, but from the moment I touched it, my fetish was born. Alice laughs about this all the time, but it is a very serious matter to me. Once you experience it, you never want to go back. Trust me on this.

The amazing thing about an intact penis is that the foreskin provides lubrication to the head of the penis. When you wrap your hands around an uncut man, the foreskin glides easily up and down the shaft. It's like one of those stress reliever toys, called water wigglies. Believe me, playing with a foreskin is WAY more enjoyable and stress relieving than playing with a water wiggly. You never have to use lube, either for sex or for jacking off. It's fucking amazing. Sadly, however, we only hooked up a couple of times, because he had a major ego, which I cannot nor will not tolerate. In fact, he is personally responsible for my dislike and distrust of doctors outside of a clinical setting, and why I will never date a doctor again. Things would have worked out swimmingly if I could have simply dated his penis and he could have left his bigger head at home.

The foreskin of a penis is a piece of skin the size of a quarter, and contains more than three million cells, 12 feet of nerves, 100 sweat glands, 50 nerve endings, and almost three feet of blood vessels. Naturally, parkas come in all shapes and sizes. There is actually a foreskin coverage index, a scale from 1-10, where one is circumcised and ten is a foreskin so long that the head of the penis is never seen. My personal favorite is C5, where the head is partially covered, but completely uncovered when the guy is fully erect. While I first thought parkas were a little funny looking, they now seem perfectly natural and beautiful.

As it turns out, there are a lot of data about foreskin restoration on the Internet. It is fascinating reading material. There are surgical and non-surgical means to restore parkas. Sadly, though, there is no way to restore the nerve endings that are cut off in circumcision, but at least it allows the glans of the penis to get lubricated, which makes sex better for both parties.

Just at that moment, Jasper walks by the couch and glances over at my laptop screen.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Swan! What the hell are you looking at now?! You need to warn a guy before looking at hardcore penis torture devices in his presence!"

I turn my laptop away from his gaze and feel my cheeks burn.

"For your information, Jasper, I was researching foreskin restoration, and I didn't ask you to eavesdrop on my Google searches."

"You are in the living room, the most public of our mutual living spaces. Whatever happens in here is fair game."

"Oh, so the next time you and Alice start to make out while watching movies, I can ask you to turn back the dial to a PG-13 rating?"

Jasper just rolls his eyes. "Whatever, dude. Now, why the fuck are you searching for information about foreskin restoration? The sex change operation didn't give you a good enough prepuce?"

I throw a coaster at him, which he dodges perfectly. "Fuck you, Jasper! I was just curious. What if I never date a guy with a hoodie again? I certainly couldn't marry someone who doesn't have one. I may need to end up asking him to restore the foreskin if it ever gets serious."

"I don't know what I think is funnier—the idea of you getting married, or the idea of you asking your significant other to regrow a foreskin."

"Come on, Jasper. I said _restore_, not _regrow_. If it was really important to Alice, you know you'd do the same thing! Plus, you've never had experience with one, so you are ill-informed to carry on this conversation with me."

I continue to page through my Google searches when it shows a picture of a "tugger" on a penis. It's a smooth piece of weighted metal that a guy puts at the end of his penis that slowly stretches the skin. After wearing the weights for a number of months (although it can take as long as two years), the skin gradually stretches enough to cover the glans of the penis.

For some reason, my mind flashes to images of that dream I had about Edward and Carlisle. I can see Edward looking up at me from my pussy, and suddenly the room feels way too hot to be sharing with Jasper.

"You feeling okay Swan? You look flushed."

"This conversation is so over."

I grab my laptop and huff off into my room.

"Try to keep it quiet as you use your Rabbit, Bella. Those things are loud," Jasper shouts out as I slam my door.

_Asshat. He'd be sans testicles right now if he wasn't in love with one of my besties._

My mind quickly returns to the gutter from whence it came, and I bring myself back to the images in my dream. I've wanted to do a web search on dream interpretation for several days, because I need to figure out what it means to have two men sexing me up simultaneously, especially when one of them is the other's father. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.

I Google "sex dream interpretation," and there are so many listings it makes my head swim. Clearly, I'm not the first person in history that needed to research this topic. That makes me feel minutely better. I click on the first link that looks promising.

_Erotic dreams__ usually occur at times when you need a certain amount of release from tension. They are a safety valve that lets out your pent-up frustrations and sexual inhibitions. They may compensate for your unfulfilled love life. _

Christ, even my dreams are aware that I need to get laid, big time. I simply haven't had the time or the inclination to seek out a partner. Well, at least I wasn't so inclined until Edward Cullen showed up. If I'm being honest with myself, I have to admit how many times he has shown up in my masturbatory fantasies lately. And my dream, it was so real and intense.

_God, his mouth on my pussy…_

Okay, Bella Swan, sitting here and rehashing the dream is not helping to interpret it. Mind out of the gutter, back to the screen!

_In most cases, these dreams are not about a deep longing for a sexual rendezvous. Rather, they show your admiration for this person's qualities. You're drawn to this individual's character or abilities, for example, great self-confidence. You simply want to unite with this trait. These dreams may also be an indicator as to what you want in a romantic partner. That's not to say, however, that you want this person._

Hmm, so neither Edward nor Carlisle were really themselves in the dream. Rather, they are people who have qualities that I want to take on. That is certainly true; I respect Edward and Carlisle more than anyone else I know. Their clinical judgment, their bedside manner, their wit and intelligence are unparalleled. Sure, I'd love to be more like either or both of them.

_Sorry to say, dream interpreter, I DO want this person. That part of the dream is correct. However, let me make it abundantly clear to the universe at large, I DO NOT want his father!_

My guilty conscience over dreaming of a father-son tag team is becoming assuaged. I notice my heart start to beat a little less nervously, and feel my muscle tension ease slightly.

_To give or to receive oral sex in your dream suggests eagerness to provide or accept gratification and happiness. It is a representation of your artistic vigor and reaffirms that you are taking the correct path in life._

Cool! So that means having oral sex with Edward Cullen is my correct path in life! Who knew? I am also highly willing to provide or accept oral gratification when it comes to Edward Cullen. I snort out loud at myself for being such a nerd.

_Sex represents teamwork, stability, serenity, fulfillment, affection, harmony, matrimony, relations, and adoration. All aspects of your life are in perfect balance_

I reread the words several times: Teamwork; stability; serenity; fulfillment; affection; harmony; matrimony; gratification; and happiness. Admittedly, most of these words describe how I feel about Edward. He brings those qualities into my life, and I would love to bring them into his life. I think.

_Group sex is mostly about your need to feel supported – not the sex! Despite all of the action, these dreams are about clarifying your feelings, evaluating your options, and making priorities._

OH THANK GOD! I'm not really a total perv! I had been secretly worried that it really meant I wanted both men, at least subconsciously. I breathe a deep and easy sigh of relief.

I have to admit to myself that had the dream been Edward alone, it would have been salaciously hot. I remember his eyes, his beautiful, striking eyes, framed by those illegally long lashes, looking up at me from between me legs. Suddenly, it's as if he is right here with me, and I feel myself get incredibly wet. If simply remembering a sex dream involving Edward Cullen can affect me in such an intense way, god help me should he ever touch me in earnest. I will be a complete goner.

I feel a familiar ache down below, and it needs to be taken care of. I lean over, sliding my side table drawer open in order to grab my Rabbit. When I hear a knock on my door at that same moment, it instantly brings me out of my reverie. Before I even know what I'm doing, I shut the drawer with a loud _thump!_ and close my laptop. I can feel my face flush in response to nearly being caught in the act.

"I already told you to fuck off and leave me alone, Whitlock!"

"Bells, it's Alice."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Alice." I reply. "Come in."

"What did Jasper do now?" she asks, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"He teased me about my hoodie fetish."

Alice giggles. "Well, you have to admit, it is a little weird."

I give her a look. "Are you here to simply make fun of me, or do you have a deeper purpose in mind?"

"Why are you so touchy today? You're usually so unflappable! I've never seen you so bristly!"

With that one simple question, the floodgates open, and my story comes pouring out. I explain the fortune cookies, my feelings, and my concerns about Edward Cullen. I go over my blog postings. _Everything_.

"Yeah, I read your last post, and that reminds me: What in god's name makes you think Edward Cullen is gay?"

"Have you been listening to anything I've said, Alice?! This man is so clearly trying to be my GBF, and I'm falling for him! What the fuck am I supposed to do? Introduce him to Jake? I just can't. I don't have the stomach for it. I'd rather die than see those two together. Am I totally awful for saying that?"

"First things first, Bella Swan. Take a deep breath," she watches me to make sure I follow her orders. Realizing she won't say anything more unless I do as she instructs, I huff a deep breath in and out.

"All right, now let's look at the facts. Your gaydar is usually spot-on, but you didn't suspect him of being gay until recently. What changed your mind?"

I take a moment to think about Alice's question. In retrospect, I became suspicious when he asked me to dinner. As a friend.

_So, he didn't ask you on a date? The only logical conclusion is that he's gay? Ever consider that maybe he isn't attracted to you?_

The other facts are that he is devastatingly beautiful, intelligent, witty, charming, and single. If he is straight, some gorgeous female would have snatched him up already, right?

Alice snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Earth to Bella? Hello? I asked you a question about Edward Cullen, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Well, there are two things that bring me to the conclusion he is gay. First, he asked me out to dinner, as a friend. The other reason is that he is beautiful, intelligent, perfect in every way, yet he is single. If he were straight, someone would have captured his heart already, don't you think?"

Alice folds her arms in front of her and furrows her brow at me. "Enough of that ridiculous nonsense, Swan. What does your gut tell you? From the moment you first connected with him? Your gaydar didn't even alarm, did it?"

"My gaydar isn't perfect, Alice. I've been wrong plenty of times before."

"Name one."

_Shit, I can't. I don't remember the last time I was wrong._

"That's what I thought."

"What? I could have been wrong this time."

"Nope. Now, sit there and listen to what I have to say."

Now it's my turn to cross my arms and furrow my brow.

"Don't interrupt, or I will never get this out, Bella."

I sigh deeply. "Okay. I promise," I tell her, crossing my heart.

"What I've seen, observing the two of you together, is a man who is clearly smitten with you. Remember the last time you were charge? Edward sat at the charge nurse's station whenever you were there."

"But—he…"

She points her finger, jabbing me in the shoulder. "I said, _no _interruptions."

I make a motion to zip my lips, and she starts over.

"How many times have you seen him sit at the charge nurse's desk since that time?"

I grimace. "None."

"That's right, because he only sits there when you're there, Bella. Now, what about the 'superb clinical synergy' you mentioned in your blog post? You two work incredibly well together. In fact, I've never seen you work more in tandem with anyone in your life."

"That doesn't mean he's straight, Alice! It just means we work well together."

"Why do suppose that is? I've seen how he looks at you when you two are together. He is happy and at ease. Confident. Natural."

"He's always like that. It isn't because of me."

"I've seen Cullen work with nearly every nurse on our unit, and he doesn't look at anyone else the way he looks at you. It's as if he is glowing when you two are together. I've been watching him closely, because I noticed right away how different he was with you. I've been looking for the signs that he's interested. Bells, he isn't gay. He's attracted to you. I would bet my life on that."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't."

Alice sits next to me on the bed and takes my hand in hers.

"We've been friends for a long time. We've been through some of life's most challenging moments together, and I know you like the back of my hand. I love you and I want more than anything for you to be happy."

"I _am_ happy! I don't need a partner to be fulfilled! You know this about me, Alice!"

"Yes, I do, but I also know that what's happening between the two of you is unusual and special. Are you really going to throw that potential away, simply because Edward Cullen happens to be a doctor, and you have a self-imposed rule against dating doctors?"

"It's not that straightforward! We work together. It would be weird. I would feel completely self-conscious all the time—he's so fuckhot, and I'm so… _me_."

"When are you ever going to see yourself clearly? You're absolutely gorgeous! You have a natural beauty that requires no enhancement. You have a killer bod. You're smart, and funny, and independent. You're the whole package, you just won't let yourself acknowledge that."

"Who could ever acknowledge that someone like Edward Cullen is attracted to them? Seriously! He's perfect in every way."

"That may be, but he wants you. I have no doubt about that. You have to trust me on this, Bells. You know I've never been wrong before."

I can barely breathe, the topic is weighing so heavily on me. I manage to squeak out a question.

"I'm positively scared by how attracted I am to him. What am I going to do? What if it doesn't work, and we still need to work together?"

Alice beams a genuine smile. "You always put the cart before the horse! All you need to do is let things happen naturally. You don't need to plan your lives together for the next ten years. Simply enjoy being in his presence, recognize that he probably enjoys your presence just as much, and go from there. It's how people fall in love, Bella. They let the chips fall where they may."

"You know what, pipsqueak? You're absolutely right. God, I'm so glad he doesn't read the blog—can you imagine what he would think if he found out I thought he was gay?!"

"I know, right? Promise me that if he flirts with you again, that you will flirt back?"

"Okay, Alice. I promise. I need to finish up writing my blog post."

She hops off the bed and gives me a big hug. "Please remember that I'm here if you ever need to talk things over. I'd hate to see you fester over something unnecessarily."

"Thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so glad you're here." 

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 31, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DISORDER_

Working in an ICU setting requires patience, tenacity, and attention to detail. So many things occur that require precision and analysis, that by the end of the shift, I am always physically _and_ mentally exhausted.

I always wanted to work in the ICU, because I am an individual who is easily bored. Once I master a new skill, I want to move on to the next skill to learn. In an ICU, things are constantly changing. There is always some new piece of equipment, new tests, new procedures, or new policies to learn. Much of what we do is based on something called evidence-based practice: That is, we use the best available evidence (both experiential- and research-based) to improve the quality of care delivery and patient outcomes. Thus, in the five years I've worked in the PICU, I can say with complete and utter honesty that I have never been bored at work.

Much of the work that nurses do in the PICU is done according to a routine and plan. While the nature of where we work ensures that there are always changes and surprises, we still use a basic framework for how we deliver care. For example, all nurses use a patient worksheet, which serves as our patient care plan. We list, hour by hour, the kinds of cares and patient interventions that need to occur: Medications, dressing changes, IV changes, drawing labs, feedings, patient baths and linen changes. It's all there in our plan of care, so that nothing is missed.

When I arrive at a patient's bedside, the previous nurse gives me a report on how the patient is doing. It is essentially a head-to-toe assessment of the patient, along with any important items that need to be passed along. While the nurse is talking to me, I multi-task, doing little assessments here and there that I'm not even actively aware that I am doing. I check expiration dates on IV lines, check any IV drips to see if more need to be ordered, make sure the oxygen and suction tubing are set up and ready to use if needed, see if a patient emergency drugs worksheet has been printed (our cheat sheet for codes—it basically tells us the dose for emergency medications, like epinephrine, based on a patient's weight). By the time report is over, I know exactly where the patient stands, as well as all the little details of the bedside set up.

At the beginning and end of each shift, we do a drip check, which is essentially a two-person system to ensure that the right medication is going in the right place, infusing at the right rate, and that it is administered to the right person. It is essential that the picture of what is happening at the bedside matches what has been ordered by the physicians in the medical record. Again, because it is the ICU, every "t" must be crossed and "i" must be dotted.

On top of all the other attention to detail tendencies required when you work in an ICU setting, you also need to be a neat freak, because it is so easy for patients to get a hospital-based infection if you are careless. We are constantly washing our hands, donning gloves and masks, and cleaning up bodily fluids as soon as they come into contact with a surface.

My own personal practice during the flu season is to wipe down every surface in a patient's room with a disinfectant wipe at the beginning of every shift, to minimize the chance that either the patient or I will catch an infection. Keyboards, a computer mouse, the patient's phone, bedside carts, IV pumps, bed rails, they can all be elements in the infection cycle. By wiping down all the surfaces, hospital-based infections fall dramatically.

As I began a recent shift, I was wiping down surfaces while I listened to report from the previous nurse. I neglected to inform the patient's parents what I was doing and why, because I was preoccupied with report. Once the previous nurse left the room, the patient's mother asked me, "Are you all right? You don't have that disease where you need to constantly wash your hands, do you?" I had to hold back my laughter when she posed her question. It never occurred to me what my cleaning tendencies must look like to someone else. I took a moment to explain to her that no, I did not have OCD, even though working in the ICU makes it seem like we all have a clinical case of it, and outlined why it is better for her son or daughter's health for me to wipe down all the surfaces. She seemed to relax significantly once everything was properly explained. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I also carry my own supply of pens with me, so that I don't accidentally touch a dirty pen or pencil at the nurse's workstation. I'm sure she would have asked for me to have a psychiatric evaluation if that little nugget of information had been shared.

So yes, I am anally retentive, careful, calculating, and infinitely patient. I'm an ICU nurse, and that's simply how we roll. Believe me when I tell you, that's a very, very good problem to have when you are taking care of a seriously acutely ill patient.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 6:15 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: Web page Bella uses to research foreskin restoration: www(dot)foreskin(dot)org(slash)fr(dash)w(dash)f(dot)htm . Be warned, it is graphic stuff.**

**For a picture of what water wigglies look like, go to my Live Journal page: kimpy0464(dot)livejournal(dot)com**

**A thread for TNJ has been created on Twilighted; come join us for smutty talk about parka research and other fun things! www(dot)twilighted(dot)net(slash)forum(slash)viewtopic(dot)php(questionmark)f(equalsign)44(ampersand)t(equalsign)9265**


	6. Are You Man Enough?

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: C. diff. is mentioned in this chapter. It is a tenacious, nasty intestinal infection, very common in hospitals. It results in a long-term case of diarrhea that is exceedingly difficult to treat.**

**Things I own: A magnet that says, "What's a little C. diff. among friends?" affixed to my locker at work.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who gives me everything, and then some. I appreciate your expert eyes when it comes to unfamiliar medical terminology and rely upon your judgment more than you realize. ILY, bb.**

**CHAPTER FIVE: ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?**

I'm still a little pissed at Jasper for teasing me. I might let it go if he would have stopped with that one incident, but no—he is determined to hound me about hoodie peens for the rest of my natural life. I don't know why he is so focused on this all of a sudden; it isn't like my keen interest in uncut guys is a recent development. Because I harbor some less than amicable feelings for Jasper at the moment, I decide I need to give as good as I receive. In short, I'm going to have a little fun with his locker in the break room.

There is an ad campaign that has been running in the American Journal of Nursing periodical, aimed at encouraging men to join the nursing profession. It shows a photo of five He-Man nurses, arms crossed, looking straight at the camera, all uber serious. The two in front are sporting goatees. Looking it over, it is clear the message is that these guys are _men_. There is a tagline at the bottom of the ad, saying, "Are you man enough to be a nurse?" I make a couple of slight alterations to the ad and tape it onto Jasper's locker, so everyone who enters the break room can see it. I giggle at my own cleverness and quickly leave the scene of the crime.

I find an empty computer station and get ready for my shift. I need to write down all the specific cares my patient needs, such as medications, feedings, dressing changes, weights, etc. Tonight I have a one-patient assignment, a little guy with a hypospadia repair, otherwise known as "I've recently had my junk rearranged." As I review the doctor's orders in the system, I can see he will be intubated and sedated overnight, so that his sutures will remain intact and his surgical wound can heal. He will be coming back from the OR momentarily, so I head to his room and get it prepared to accept him.

I'm not sure what it is about the OR, but the patients always seem to be a train wreck when they arrive post operatively. Since the OR team is really only concerned with the area they are targeting and the patient's vital signs, everything else is extraneous to them. Oftentimes, the patient is transferred to the PICU without having received any additional pain medication since the OR, so they can be wild and thrashing by the time they reach us. I'm hoping that won't be my experience tonight, but obviously, you have to take what you get.

I get a call from Post-Op to give me report on my little patient. They give me a quick assessment, let me know what kinds of medications he was given during surgery, and what kind of IV access he has. Most of our patients have a central line, which is an IV line that goes from the insertion site and travels through the blood vessel until it reaches the right atrium of the heart. When these types of lines are used, the medications are delivered directly into the heart, or "centrally." These lines are essential, because they allow us to infuse multiple medications simultaneously, to safely administer medications that are harmful or that irritate the blood vessels, and to easily draw blood for lab tests, thus avoiding sticking patients multiple times to establish peripheral IV access or for lab draws.

I'm in luck so far, because my patient is stable on the ventilator, has recently had some pain meds, and has a central line. He will be on his way up in ten minutes. In the room, I get the monitor set up and select the vital signs I need to pay attention to: Heart rate and pattern; blood pressure; respiratory rate; and oxygen saturation. There are other things that can be monitored, but this is likely all I will need for this patient. I hook up EKG leads that will monitor his heart, a blood pressure cuff, and an O2 saturation probe.

Every nurse has duties that they love, and those that they hate. Jasper, for example, loves to assist with procedures at the bedside, like an ultrasound or putting in an emergency atrial line. He hates anything that involves poo. I hate giving baths and weights, and I love settling a patient post operatively. There's nothing more satisfying to me than turning a hot mess of chaos into something neat and orderly. I know I'm in for 12 hours of nirvana tonight, and I can't wait for my patient to get here.

Little Mr. Messy Junk is a six week old who had hypospadia, which is birth defect where the urethra doesn't end at the tip of the penis, it is on the underside instead. His hypospadia was repaired, he was circumcised, and he had a double hernia repair as well. His junk is the equivalent of a 10-car pile up. He has a foley catheter inserted and stent keeping his urethra open while it heals.

When he arrives, he has a breathing tube, and the Respiratory Therapist is bagging him with O2 until we can get a ventilator set up. The post-op nurse hands him off to me, giving me another brief report. At once, 2 of my colleagues show up to help me get the patient settled into his new bed. There is always someone available to jump in to help out if a patient becomes critical or arrives from the OR; it's one of the reasons I appreciate my colleagues so much. In no time, we have new EKG leads on him, a blood pressure cuff, and have his monitor hooked up and ready to go. As quickly as they descended, my colleagues depart, off to help someone else.

Because it is the night shift and he is highly sedated, my patient's parents are not present. I don't want him to feel like he is alone, so I talk to him as I get him settled. Even though he is sedated, he can still hear me on some level, and I want him to be reassured that someone is with him. He's a wee little bit of a boy, and it makes me feel very protective of him.

"Who the hell are you talking to, Swan?" I hear a smooth, deep voice break through my thoughts.

I startle and scream. "Jesus, Cullen, don't sneak up on me like that! You made me scare my patient!"

"I'd love to help you out with that, but then I would miss your blush. That is simply unacceptable," he chuckles.

Sometimes, when he laughs, he scrunches his face up, so that his nose wrinkles as he smiles. His cheeks get these adorable dimples. They are crinkly wrinkled dimples. _Crimples_. Edward Cullen has awesome crimples, but I must not let myself get distracted by them at the moment.

I roll my eyes at him. "Well, I'm in the middle of getting him settled, so hop in to get your assessment finished. I'm a busy woman, after all."

"Oh, all serious business now, hmm?"

"I'm always serious business at work."

_Is he trying to flirt with me? I did promise Alice I would flirt back._

As Edward assesses the patient's surgical site, I start to engage in small talk; it's the best I'm able to do in terms of flirting.

"I always speak to my patients, but I felt compelled to apologize to the little guy for our rearranging his junk."

"But he had hypospadia—it had to be rearranged!"

"Oh, I know that, but it looks like hamburger down there. Have some sympathy for the poor guy—he just lost 12 feet of nerves when he got circed."

Edward gives me a very strange look, as if he is dazed. "How do you know so much about foreskin?"

"Edward, you're aware that I'm a nurse, right? It's kind of my job to know that stuff. I need to know how to take care of a parka. You know that if we don't clean it properly smegma can develop and the parka can adhere to the glans."

"The what?"

"The parka. You know, like the peen is wearing a parka?"

"I can't say I've ever heard of that term before."

His reaction has me confused. "Edward? Did I say something wrong?"

"What? Umm, no…no, you didn't say anything wrong. I must just be a little tired."

Edward's pager suddenly beeps. He quickly glances at it, and walks away. All I can do is watch his fine ass, and it dawns on me that he has no undergarments peeking out of his scrubs.

_Fucking commando again. This man is going to be the death of me, I swear!_

In that moment, I recognize exactly what Edward's dazed look implies.

_Oh my god, Edward must be "mostly gay." The peen talk totally distracted him. Dammit, Alice, he IS gay!_

*****

Shelly Cope, the charge nurse tonight, asks me to assist with a critical patient around 3 AM. She wants an experienced nurse in the room in case the patient codes and emergency meds need to be given.

"Of course I'll help. You want me to just swap assignments for a while?"

"Yeah, that would be great, Bella. I appreciate it. You're the most experienced nurse that I have staffed tonight."

I feel the blush, and walk away before it is noticeable to anyone within 50 square feet of me. I walk into the new patient's room and give the nurse a quick report before we swap, and she does likewise. Apparently, I'm going to assist with a central line placement, so I go about preparing all the supplies that we will need. I have the table set up for the Attending, when Edward Cullen walks into the room. And what do I do then? I look straight at his package. When our eyes meet, I feel my face flush and look at the smug grin on his face.

_How does he do this to me every time?_

I clear my throat and ask Edward how he wants to proceed.

"I want you to draw up 50 mikes of Fentanyl, 1 milligram of Versed, and have Propofol ready to go if we need it. 10 milligrams per kilo."

"Maybe what I'll do is set up a stopcock, so that we can have the Propofol hooked up and ready to push. Does that sound okay?"

"My thoughts exactly. Why don't you draw up two doses of each med except the Propofol, just in case."

"Absolutely. Do you need me to get anything else set?"

"Nope, but I will need you to tie my gown."

"Of course."

Edward tinkers around with the set up, so that everything is positioned the way he wants it. He puts on his sterile gown, and turns his back to me so I can tie it on him using sterile technique. My fingers are mere inches from his tight ass, and only a tiny layer of cotton/poly blend and my sterile gloves separate me from that work of art.

"Bella?"

"Huh?"

"Are you finished?"

"Oh, yep. I am. Sorry about that. Must be getting tired or something."

"You seem a little preoccupied. Are you sure everything is okay? Because I can certainly get another assistant if you're not up to it."

He turns to look at me from over his shoulder, wry grin on his face.

I roll my eyes at him. "If you really prefer another nurse, you know, someone less experienced, I can certainly arrange for that."

His winning smile answers my statement.

_I didn't think so. _

I move across the bed from him, so I am able to reach the patient's IV in order to push meds. I stand at the ready while Edward lays sterile towels over the site where he will attempt the central line, so that all he can see is the area where he will be working. The remainder of the patient is covered. He carefully preps and sterilizes the site using betadine.

I watch Edward closely as he works. I think my favorite activity in the world is watching him do a procedure. His face becomes incredibly serious, his brow furrows, and he is a study in intensity. It's as if he is willing the patient's body to comply with his plan of attack. He has his safety goggles on, the ones that look like Ray Bans, and his messy hair falls over his forehead. I shake my head as I take him in, wondering how in god's name he can look so fucking sexy at 3 AM, when he has been awake for more than 24 hours. It's completely unfair.

I absolutely love the way he holds his fingers when he is putting in sutures or threading in a central line catheter. He has extremely flexible hands and fingers that he contorts in amazing ways. It is nothing but a pleasure to be asked to assist him, because I am _forced_ to focus on what he's doing. I have an actual excuse to drool over his fingers and hands, provided that I keep the saliva out of his sterile field, of course.

_Yes, I know how to take one for the team. Lucky for my colleagues that I'm not shy about assisting Dr. Cullen, or they might end up with the onerous task._

As he works over the patient, I ask him questions about what he is doing and his technique, because I'm curious to know about the way he does things. Every doctor has different preferences, and it's a good way for me to understand what makes him tick. I smile to myself as I regard how careful and precise he is in his preparations and movements. It is almost as if he is playing an instrument, the way he uses his hands to move over the patient's body.

_He does have very skilled hands. And fingers. If those fingers were moving over my skin…_

He looks up at me, and wrinkles his nose while smiling. It is the most endearing, charming look I've ever seen, and it's positively full of joy. It literally takes my breath away. As much as I love his crooked, smug grin, his crimples are what do me in. Every fucking time.

I need to start talking to him to distract myself before my legs take on the consistency of silly putty.

"So, your dad is from England, right?"

Edward looks up at me and furrows his brow. I've caught him off guard.

"Yes, why?"

"No reason. I'm quite an Anglophile, you know."

"Hmm. Actually, I had no idea. How did this come about?"

_Oh, I used to fuck a British guy with a parka and fell in love with his junk, as well as his accent. _

"I'm very taken by the accent."

_I'm sure as hell not going to admit to the parka fetish. Jesus._

My inner monologue is starting to piss me off; it needs to shut the fuck up.

"Is that so? I actually lived there when I was younger, up until I was about 7. After that, I spent every summer there with my extended family. Push the Fentanyl, please."

"50 mikes of Fentanyl is in. I've always wanted to go there, but I've never really had the time or a traveling partner. I'd give my two front teeth to go there."

"I'd be happy to accompany you some time, if you need a travel buddy. I could show you the real England, the part tourists don't get to see. It could be a lot of fun. Go ahead with the Versed."

"1 milligram of Versed is in. You'd do that? Go to England with me, someone you barely know? What would your partner think?"

_Might as well make it safe for him to confirm or deny his orientation, right?_

"What do you mean, 'barely know'? I work 12-hour shifts with you, and when you are the charge nurse, we're always at the desk together. I think we know each other almost intimately. Shit, patient's moving. Push the Propofol."

_Fuck, he glossed right over it. _

"Propofol is in." I move over to the monitor, resetting the blood pressure cuff to read pressures every five minutes, so we can monitor the patient more closely. We all know what happened to Michael Jackson when he was given too much Propofol. It's incredibly powerful stuff, especially on top of Fentanyl and Versed. "I didn't want to make any assumptions, of course. I think it would be a hoot to travel with you. You'd be a fun travel buddy. Do you like digestive biscuits?"

He looks up at me, his eyes twinkling, the crimple prominent. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Why would I be kidding? I'm totally curious."

"Why?"

"No, you tell me why. I asked you first."

"Because my favorite food on the planet is McVitie's Hob Nobs."

"Oh my god, I love Hob Nobs! Milk chocolate, right?"

"Oh, with a good cup of tea, there's nothing better!"

"Earl grey?"

"Absolutely."

"We totally need to have tea sometime."

"My mom always has a supply of McVitie's in the house for my dad. She buys them by the case. We've been known to get into turf wars over who gets the last biscuit."

His face is so beautiful and engaging when he talks about something deeply personal. He isn't necessarily good at hiding his feelings, which I love, but it also makes me wonder if he isn't in for some trouble down the road because of it.

"Patient is starting to twitch again, what do you want to give?"

"Push another 50 of Fentanyl. I'll ask my mom to bring some bickies over for us."

"Oh my god, you just said 'bickies.' I think I might be in love with you!" I reply, a bit too zealously.

Edward gets that dazed, far off look again, the same one he got when we were discussing parkas.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Edward! I didn't really mean I love you, you know? I mean, you're great and funny. Just ignore me."

"What? Oh, no, you're fine. I need to focus on suturing the line. Can you call to have X-ray verify the line placement?"

Suddenly, our wonderful little bubble of fun has burst, we're back to serious business mode, and I feel slightly empty as a result.

*****

I'm on break with Alice, and the subject of Edward comes up, as usual.

"Did you see he was commando _again_? Seriously, does that man ever wear underwear, Bella?"

"I fucking hope not, although I have to admit that it is pretty distracting. It's like his junk is outlined and highlighted. He's caught me staring a number of times, it's so fucking embarrassing!"

"It's like he has Braille-friendly scrubs. No one will ever mistake him for a girl!" Alice giggles at herself.

"Oh my god, can you imagine? 'Accidentally' bumping into the junk and feeling him up?"

"Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that Cullen is sporting a monster underneath those scrubs!"

"I know, right? It calls to me, I simply cannot look away, no matter how many times he catches me! I'm going straight to hell, there's no doubt about that!"

Alice is still laughing so hard her eyes are watering. "It's like he's a green-eyed monster, you know?"

"We could totally get away with that for his nickname, because no one would ever suspect us of referring to his monster cock!"

We are snorting out loud over ourselves as the break room door flies open. It's Jasper, and he looks pissed.

"Jazz, what—are…"

"Fuck, Cope put me in with the C. diff. kid tonight, and I've been covered in shit for about 8 hours straight. I just need a fucking shower before I touch anything."

"What's a little C. diff. among friends, Whitlock?"

"Yeah, you're really funny, Swan. I almost laughed that hard at the stupid thing you put on my locker."

I start snorting all over again, being completely unconvincing that I had nothing to do with defiling his locker.

"Bella, that was you? I thought it was kind of mean."

"Alice, come on! He has been giving me so much crap about lately about hoodie peens, I had to get him back."

"Swan, 'Are you Man Enough to be a Murse' just isn't funny. Any time. You know how much I hate that! I get so much crap from everyone. Not to mention that everyone is convinced I'm gay."

"You mean you're not? Wow, my gaydar Geiger counter has been wacko all night whenever I'm near you."

"Fuck off."

"Oh, Jasper, that hurts! I thought we were on such good terms! Come on, you have to be able to get as good as you give."

One of the great things about Jasper is that he doesn't hold a grudge, and I can tell he's more pissed about being covered in poo than he is about being called a Murse.

I look at my watch and realize break time is over. I stand up and muss Jasper's hair on my way out, leaving he and Alice a little bit of alone time together.

*****

Morning rounds start at different times in the PICU, depending upon what service is following the patient. Some of our kids have very complex illnesses, and they are followed by several specialties. Frequently, we have Pulmonologists, Cardiologists, and GI docs working with one patient. My particular patient is followed by Urology, and the surgeon there is notorious for talking to nurses' boobs. It is so bad that sometimes you just want to bend down to get eye contact with him. He earned the nickname Dr. Titmouse long ago.

In rounds, doctors present the case, which essentially gives an abbreviated version of the patient's condition and any progress or deterioration. Typically, the Fellow or Resident is responsible for giving the report, and questioned by the Attending to ensure that the report is accurate and precise. The Resident usually stops by near the end of my shift to get my assessment, and then incorporates my report into their own. I used to give a really detailed, thorough assessment, but I found that most Residents would simply take my words and use them as their own when presenting the case. One time, a Neurosurgery Fellow made the mistake of repeating my assessment to his Attending, Dr. Rosalie Hale. She ripped him a new asshole in short order, saying, "If I wanted the nurse's report on the patient, I would have asked her. Tell me something new, or find yourself a new program." That made me realize that I can be thorough, but they need to make their own conclusions if they are really going to learn anything.

This morning, Edward is giving the rounds report on my patient, since he admitted and followed his progress overnight. I stand in the doorway of the patient's room, so I can answer any questions the rounding team may have. Dr. Titmouse is standing next to me, gross old perv that he is. He basically ignores Edward, stares at my boobs the entire time, and then proceeds to ask me all the questions. I try to deflect back to Edward out of professional courtesy, but Titmouse won't have it.

"What color is the patient's urine?"

_Well, Titmouse, you might be able to find that out if you focus your vision away from my rack and towards the patient!_

Edward and I answer simultaneously. "Pink."

"But the sutures held firm? The stent is still in place?" Titmouse queries, still looking straight at my tits.

I look over to Edward and nod discretely, letting him know I understand that this is his report, and I intend to let him give it, even if Titmouse is not so inclined. Edward's gaze catches mine, and he is clearly not amused.

"As I said in my report, the stent is patent, and all his sutures are still intact. There was minor drainage at the circ site, but it has been redressed with Vaseline gauze."

I watch while Edward continues, his glare becoming icy and directed straight towards Titmouse. His eyes shift between Titmouse's eyes and my boobs, and I suddenly start to feel a little awkward. I cross my arms over my chest.

"Dr. Gerandy, I'm giving the report, not nurse Swan. I would appreciate it if you directed your attention to me rather than her chest. Unless, of course, you want me to talk to HR about a sexual harassment complaint."

I've never heard a Resident or a Fellow talk to an Attending physician like that before. To say I'm shocked is a complete understatement. Edward really went out on a limb for me, risking the ire of a senior physician. No one has ever gone to bat for me in such a significant way before, and I'm both impressed and overwhelmed.

Dr. Gerandy gives Edward a very crusty look, saying nothing. He doesn't look at my boobs again, thank god. My eyes meet with Edward's, and I mouth a silent "Thank you" to him; he just gives me a slight nod in acknowledgment.

*****

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_RESPECT_

The medical profession is rife with examples of doctors disrespecting nurses. For much of our existence, we were seen more like doctors' secretaries—subservient, unable to think for ourselves, far less intelligent. Their assumption was that anyone who became a nurse only did so for one reason: To marry a doctor. While many aspects of the roles of doctors and nurses have changed over recent decades, there is still an air of hubris and superiority some older physicians harbor. It frustrates me to no end to be treated in such a way, especially when it is assumed that my only interest or motivation is to bed and wed a doctor.

This morning, a lecherous, older physician saw fit to stare at my chest while the PICU Fellow was giving a report during rounds. Both the Fellow and I tried in vain to redirect his attention away from my breasts, with little success. Typically, that's where a story like this ends—a pervy doctor is allowed to get away with ogling, and everyone shrugs and gets on with their day. It is exceedingly difficult to get a doctor reprimanded for such behavior. Yet this morning, it was as though a new day had dawned, because the Fellow called out this particular physician, telling him directly to stop leering at me and threatening him with a sexual harassment charge. I was shocked and amazed that one physician would come to a nurse's defense against another. Clearly, there has been an evolutionary shift between the older and the younger physicians. It was a stunning development, to say the least. I felt such a surge of pride and vindication, and it was wonderful.

Just who was my savior? The beautiful, green-eyed doctor whom I have mentioned in this blog before. If I wasn't sure that I was falling for him before, there is no question in my mind now. While I'm not completely convinced he isn't gay, that is less important to me at this juncture. In fact, it is more important to have him be part of my life, either as a GBF or potential boyfriend, than to reject him simply because of sexual orientation. The bottom line? It doesn't matter to me anymore. I will take this green-eyed doctor any way in which I can get him.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 9:41 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: The mention of smegma is specifically for hotmama4jd; she knows why. Ladyeire72, I will leave it to you to find your reference in this chapter. I devote the parka in this chapter to danielgale. 'Cos we all know the Brits got the parkas.**


	7. Setting the Record Straight

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I have come to learn that, since the last chapter was written, Mr. Rob Pattinson himself has gone on record regarding his love for Hob Nobs. Just one more reason to love him. *sigh* The video clip is posted on my LJ page for those who are interested.**

**H+P is short for "History and Physical," something docs have to complete for each patient admitted to their unit.**

**Thanks to TFX for being the fuckawesome beta that she is, even while battling a cold. **

**Things I own: A container half-full of Hob Nobs. I couldn't resist, and had to buy some after the last chapter. NOMZ.**

**Things I don't own: An entire case of Hob Nobs would be even better. Nearly as good as Rob, but not quite. Oh, or anything Twilight, because that is Stephenie Meyer's domain.**

**CHAPTER SIX: SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT**

_._

I need to write up an H+P for the new patient, but I have a bitch of a caffeine withdrawal headache and I'm starving. The only food choice at this time of day is the vending machine, but I'm simply not that desperate. I can't even fathom drinking the liquid battery acid that passes for coffee in the doctor's lounge, but I'm going to have to suck it up if I want to stay awake. I rub my eyes and stretch.

First, I smell her.

_Coffee and cinnamon_.

Then, I hear her.

_Panting slightly_.

Then, I open my eyes and see her.

_Cheeks flushed, a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead_. _Cheshire Cat grin._

For a split second, my mind wanders to deliciously erotic places, imagining myself as the cause of her panting.

"Sorry I'm all out of breath. I took the stairs, and this extra load made it harder than usual."

Since I'm still imagining her on top of me, flushed and panting, my brain is slow to respond.

"You took the stairs?" is all I can manage to choke out.

"I always take the stairs. Two at a time. It's good for the glutes. Gotta get that exercise in when I can, you know."

_I can personally certify that it is amazingly good for the glutes, Swan._

Jesus, no wonder her ass is so hot. I picture myself taking the steps behind her, hands on her ass cheeks, goosing her as she moves.

She is making light work of assembling the best thing my eyes have ever seen: Apple pie. Homemade, warm, apple pie. She sets the entire pie in front of me, then grabs a pint of vanilla bean ice cream from her cooler. She takes two Starbucks coffee cups from a to-go carrier, one clearly labeled "Edward," and one labeled "Bella." I decide right then and there that this is the woman for me.

"Edward?" she asks, trying to get my attention.

_Shit. Busted. I can only hope I didn't drool._

"Um, this is a pie. I made it for you," she offers up, like it even needs an intro.

"You made a pie for me?"

"Yes, I made you a Swan Family recipe pie. I assure you, this is no ordinary pie."

She bends over to inhale the pie deeply. As she does so, the v in her scrub top puckers open, and I can see her cleavage. It's right in front of me, winking. Suddenly, the pie isn't the most luscious thing in the room.

"God, the spices smell delicious!"

_What are we talking about again?_

"Oh, and I brought some vanilla bean ice cream, and a six shot Americano. My Starbucks crew now has both of our drinks ready for me every time I go in there. They're all convinced you don't exist, since they've never seen you," she giggles.

"Swan, what could I have possibly done that merits your making a homemade, fucking incredible pie for me? I'm not complaining, mind you, I just want to know what I did to entice you, so that I can entice you over and over again."

She blushes. "Well, you're my knight in shining armor. You defended my honor and chastity in front of Titmouse."

"Then by all means, call me whenever your honor needs to be defended. I practically have a pie fetish, so you can't say you haven't been warned."

She looks at me with a conspiratorial grin. "Should we have some now?"

"You eat pie?"

"What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I eat pie!"

"I've never been with a woman who willingly ate pie before!"

_Shit, that didn't sound right!_

"Well, then you are clearly hanging around with the wrong kind of women. I'm in the all-things-in-moderation camp. If you're going to splurge, make sure it's for a good reason. This pie is worth every last calorie, I assure you."

"I have no doubt. Would you like me to do the honor?"

Without responding, she enthusiastically hands me a knife and pie server.

"Ice cream on yours?"

I give her a sarcastic look. "Do you even need to ask? _Of course_ I want ice cream on mine! Vanilla is my favorite."

"Really?"

"Is that surprising?"

"Well, yes. You don't seem like a plain vanilla kind of guy."

"Shows how much you know about vanilla, Swan. Research indicates that people who prefer vanilla are actually colorful, impulsive risk takers who set high goals and have high expectations of themselves."

"How do you know so much about vanilla ice cream?"

"When I was younger, I used to worry a lot that I was plain and boring because I liked vanilla, so I made it my business to know all about it."

She leans towards me, are her fucking scrub top puckers again. She's practically begging me to reach out and acquaint myself with the girls. I move my hands to my lap to keep all of us safe—Bella, the girls, and me. She makes it so fucking difficult to keep things on a professional level.

"I can't imagine that you ever had anything to worry about, Edward Cullen. Oh, and vanilla is my favorite flavor, too," she whispers in my ear seductively. At least I think it is seductive. Perhaps it is just normal, and I am misreading all of Bella's cues. My mind and my penis both want to imagine it is seductive. Both of my heads are in the gutter, collaboratively.

"Well then, I should tell you that people who love vanilla are most compatible with other people who love vanilla. How about that?"

"Eat my pie, Edward. I want to know what you think."

_Does she have any idea what she just said?_

She watches me closely as I prepare a bite, making sure I have plenty of ice cream on top. As the fork makes contact with my tongue, I can feel its warmth in contrast to the coolness of the ice cream. I chew, and so many delicious flavors excite my tongue simultaneously. It's very spicy, but more than just cinnamon. The apples are warm and so full of flavor. The crust is flaky and buttery. The vanilla ice cream adds the perfect complement, in both flavor and temperature—a touch of creamy sweetness that coats the apples and spice. How could Bella have possibly known this was exactly what I needed right now?

_Caffeine and pie. Bella's pie. Bella's spicy pie. I'm eating Bella's pie._

"Bella Swan, I have no words for this pie. It is, quite possibly, the best thing I've ever tasted in my life."

"Really? Oh, I'm so glad you like it!"

"Just so you know, I'll be asking you to make this for me daily for the rest of your natural life. I hope you're prepared to take that responsibility on."

Her face flushes once again, and she mumbles something about getting ready for her shift.

"Did I say something wrong, Bella? All I meant is that it's the most fucking delicious thing I've ever eaten. Thank you. Truly."

She gives me a small smile, which appeases me momentarily. "You're welcome, Edward. Thank you for coming to my rescue."

As she turns and walks away from me, I take another moment to appreciate the hospital stairs' impact on Bella Swan's sublime ass.

**~xXx~**

I hear a voice as I'm walking down the hallway. It's soothing and gentle, and you can tell there is love behind the words. I reach the doorway and realize that it is Bella. It instantly brings me back to the conversation we had the last time I overheard her talking to a patient.

"… _Have some sympathy for the poor guy—he just lost 12 feet of nerves when he got circed."_

"_How do you know so much about foreskin?"_

"_Edward, you're aware that I'm a nurse, right? It's kind of my job to know that stuff. I need to know how to take care of a parka. __You would be surprised how many American doctors are clueless when it comes to caring for an intact infant, thinking you have to get all up in there and clean things out. I always have to remind them not to retract, it is stuck there for a reason, and to stop messing with nature!"_

"_The what?"_

"_The parka. You know, like the peen is wearing a parka?"_

"_I can't say I've ever heard of that term before."_

"_Edward? Did I say something wrong?"_

Hearing Bella Swan talk about foreskin and penises goes straight to my dick every time. Simply recalling the conversation gets me hard. I subtly adjust myself and rearrange my scrub top to make sure the evidence of my arousal is safely hidden. Since her eyes nearly always land on my package before they look elsewhere, I don't want my hard on to be glaringly obvious. Naturally, thinking about Bella eyeing my junk only adds another degree of hardness to my already swollen cock.

Bella is an incredible nurse. You can tell she was born to take care of people; she is so loving with her patients. I walk into the room, and I watch while she gives her patient a bath. She explains what she is doing as she works, stopping frequently to rub the baby's head to calm her. She takes the patient's little foot in her hand and rubs circles over the underside. I wonder what it would be like to have Bella's hands on me. To have her touch me so intimately.

_Christ. There I go again. As if I wasn't hard enough._

I try to turn my focus back to the patient, but it isn't easy. I clear my throat, causing her to look up at me.

"I didn't hear you come in, Cullen. Do you need to assess Violet Beauregarde?"

"Wait, this isn't baby Victoria?"

Bella giggles at me. "Oh, it's baby Victoria, all right. I just gave her a nickname."

"Since when is Violet Beauregarde a nickname?"

"Do you even know who she is?"

"Who? Victoria, or Violet?"

"Violet."

"Is she a real person?"

"Wow, you really don't know, do you?"

"Give me a minute, Swan. It sounds familiar, I'm sure I can figure it out."

She lifts an eyebrow at me and gives me a _look_.

"She's a fictional character in children's literature."

"I asked you to give me a minute!"

"Yeah, sorry I threw you a life preserver while you were drowning. How thoughtless of me," she says, shaking her head and smiling.

"OK, I give up. Who is Violet Beauregarde?"

"She's one of the Golden Ticket winners in _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. She loves to chew gum, and eats a piece of untested gum during the factory tour. The result is that she blows up like a big blueberry."

"And this is pertinent to little Victoria because… ?"

"Well, just look at her! She looks like a little blueberry! Her heart defect doesn't allow her to get much oxygenated blood, so she always looks bluish. You should see her when she screams. Bright purple, no lie."

"Huh. I've never read the book or seen the movie, of course. Always too busy."

"But you didn't even read it as a kid?"

"Actually, I didn't read much as a kid. I always worked with Legos or puzzles, stuff like that."

"That sounds miserable! Are you sure you were ever really a kid?"

I laugh at that. "My mother would tell you that I still am. You can have mature interests and still be a kid, Bella."

"Uh, that's pretty doubtful. So, _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ is another one we need to add to our list."

"What list?"

"Our list of stuff to do together. Like read _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_, then watch the movie. We also need to add the dinner conversation where you try to gross me out."

_She's counting the things we're going to do together. That can't be all bad now, can it?_

"Oh, look at Violet! She's sucking on her endotracheal tube!"

"Well, it's a natural response for babies—so much of what they experience early in life comes from oral discovery."

"I know, I think it's adorable that they make do with what they have. Can't put a pacifier or fingers in their mouths, so they suck around the tubing. You know, I'm a very oral person. I love to feel things with my mouth, too."

_Please to not be putting images of you feeling all my things with your fuckhot mouth, Bella Swan. Subject change starts… NOW._

"I'm kind of surprised you don't have children of your own, Swan. You're so good with them."

"Work babies are the very best kind, because I get to care for and love them, but I return them to their rightful owners when I leave. No getting up in the middle of the night or anything. I'm perfectly satisfied to be like the beneficent auntie. Plus, raising a child is a huge responsibility. I'm too selfish with my independence at the moment, and I wouldn't have a child if I planned to be a single mom the rest of my life. It is way too much work for one person."

"You've really thought about it, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, I like to have a life plan. I think about it a lot. I always come to the same conclusion: Not right now. Not for a while. End of story."

_That's right. Not until you meet the right person. By the way, he happens to be standing right next to you, trying very, very hard not to be distracted by your cleavage._

My pager chooses that moment to go off. I quickly check the message, and need to deal with it immediately. I shrug my shoulders at Bella and make my way to the patient in need.

**~xXx**

I make my way home once the shift is finally over, and I have two nights off in a row. Sometimes, you catch a lucky break. Naturally, my refrigerator is empty, my clothes and sheets are all dirty, and my mail has piled up. I don't have the energy to do anything else besides drag myself to bed. I'm practically asleep as I walk from my front door to my bedroom. The errands can wait; sleep cannot.

I pull off my scrubs and throw them on the floor, then climb into bed, naked. There's nothing like the feeling of sheets against your bare skin. I get myself comfortable, in a diagonal across the bed. It's king size, so I can spread out as much as I want to. It doesn't get any better than this.

_Well, unless Bella Swan is curled up next to you. That would be infinitely better._

Fuck. I don't want to think about Bella right now or I'll never get to sleep. My tired mind wanders back to the pie incident, when her cleavage was nearly in my face. Apparently, my dick isn't tired at all, because it responds to Bella's breasts even more quickly than my mind. It's been days since I've beaten off, I've been so busy at the hospital. I know that I need to get this taken care of if I'm ever going to fall asleep.

I remember the look on her face when I cornered her. I want to see that look again. I was so close to her in that moment, I could have easily leaned over and kissed her. Of course, I couldn't do that at work, but I can certainly use it to fuel my fantasies. I take my hard cock in my hand and imagine the scene in my head.

_I'm kissing her and press our bodies together, so she can feel exactly how much she affects me. _

I wonder if she'll moan or whimper for me. Does she talk dirty? Fuck, I hope she does. I feel my dick growing stiffer as it glides through my palm.

_I grab her thigh and hitch it around my waist, intensifying the friction against my hard cock. A slight smile blooms on her face, then she takes the onus to wrap her other leg around me. She gasps as I rub against her clit, through our thin layers of our scrubs. _

_I press my face between her tits while wrapping my arms under her shoulders, so I can use the increased leverage to rub our clothed bodies more tightly together…_

That's all the further my image takes me, because I'm suddenly coming all over my chest. I honestly cannot recall the last time I had such a satisfying orgasm, and drift easily off to sleep.

**~xXx~**

"So, um, Edward…" She begins, hesitantly, intermittently biting the corner of her lip. "There's a bunch of us going on an inner tubing trip on the 19th of June. You should come. We're going to stay overnight in Leavenworth and come back the following day. I was wondering if you were interested in going? I mean, with the whole group, of course, not just with me. Not like a date or anything… you could share a room with Alice, Jasper, and me."

"Oh, not a date?"

She looks at me, confused. "Do you want it to be a date?"

I can't help but grin at her. "Do _you_ want it to be a date?"

She flushes. "Do you even date at all? Anyway, I asked you first."

"Actually, I asked you first. And of course I date. What kind of question is that?"

She crosses her arms and huffs. "Whatever, I just thought it would be fun if you came along."

"I would very much like to come… along."

She slaps my shoulder and giggles. "Jesus, you're a perv, Cullen! Are you going to go or not?"

"Well, it is my birthday that weekend. I'll see if I can reschedule dinner with my parents."

"Oh, I don't want to do that to you. They'd be so disappointed."

"Bella, I'm a big boy; ever since I've been a doctor, we've had to be flexible about when my birthday is celebrated. It's not a big deal."

"Well, only if you're sure. Your parents are both so nice, and I would hate to hurt their feelings."

"They'll be fine. Promise. This sounds like a more enjoyable way of spending the day, to be honest. Hmm, perhaps I can rope you into coming over to my parent's house with me afterwards? Like a tit for tat sort of thing?"

"Really? You'd want me to go to your parent's house? For your birthday? I suppose I could do that…. so, um, would you have a problem if I sign you up to stay in our room? Totally platonic, of course. Like I said before, I'm not trying to force myself on you."

"I'm not sure I can trust you, Swan. I bet you're going to be all over me the entire time. You seem like a hands-on type of girl."

Bella reacts with a shocked gasp. "I'm never like that around you, Cullen! I just told you that I'm trying not to force myself on you. What the hell?"

I'm having way too much fun pushing her buttons. "What is it with you, Swan, all your pussyfooting around? I'm beginning to think you might not like me."

"Wait, what? I'm so confused, Cullen. You're afraid I'm going to be all over you, but then in the next sentence you're accusing me of not liking you? Is this supposed to be an episode of _The Twilight Zone_ or something? We're in some kind of alternate universe?"

"It could be the episode of _Star Trek_ where everyone has an evil twin. I could send Evil Twin Edward on the inner tubing trip, and see how he fares with you. You'll know who he is by the goatee."

"Yeah, well Evil Twin Bella will most likely junk punch Evil Twin Edward for being such a confusing asshat. You'll know Evil Twin Bella because she sports neon blue hair."

"Neon blue?" I can't help but laugh out loud over this. "You can't do better than neon blue?"

"Like a goatee is better?"

"Hey, I can't help it that they sported goatees in the original series—I'm just staying true to the story here!"

"Whatever! The bottom line is that we're just good friends, and good friends can sleep together innocently. I mean, it isn't like I need to worry about _you_ copping a feel or anything."

I smile at her presumption. "Hey, my hands have a mind of their own, I do not hold myself responsible for their actions," I say, wiggling my fingers in front of her face.

Her eyes open wide and she cocks her head to the side. "What? How… I'm so confused!"

"Come on, Swan, you're a hot chick. Everyone knows this. I'm sure guys are always after you! It won't be any worse than being groped in the bar by some stranger."

The look on her face is a study in discomfort and embarrassment. "But you're… I mean… aren't you trying to be my GBF?"

"What the hell is a GBF?"

Her face instantly turns a deep shade of scarlet. She replies with a very small voice, "Gay best friend."

_Oh, fuck no! Not this shit again!_

It is time to put this to rest once and for all. I back her into a corner, knowing that I will have her full attention. I lean up close to her face, putting a hand on either side, so she is trapped. She doesn't look scared, however; if I had to guess, I'd say it fucking turns her on. I can feel her breath on my cheeks. She's biting her bottom lip in that adorably sexy way, which lets me know she's nervous.

_Good. I need to make sure the message gets through this time._

"Bella Swan, if there is just one thing I want you to know about me, it is that I am definitely, assuredly, _not_ gay. Not even close. In fact, I'm extremely, absolutely, no-holds-barred, 100% heterosexual. I intend to go out of my way to prove this to you, as often as I have to, in any way that I have to. Make no mistake—I plan to show you just how heterosexual I am. I don't want this to come up between us again, unless it is because you're asking me to demonstrate the many ways in which I'm not gay."

Her breath catches in her throat as she gasps.

_Good answer._

**~xXx~**

TUESDAY, JUNE 10, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_BOUNDARIES_

After a very long, drawn out decision making process, I finally decided that I would post on my blog this morning. Having experienced an epic amount of chagrin and embarrassment at work, I wasn't sure if I had the fortitude necessary to process my feelings into coherent thoughts. I also struggled with whether or not I even wanted to make this experience public. Because the very nature of keeping a blog is partly a discovery process, however, I decided to try to capture the essence of their meaning.

For years, I've eschewed dating doctors. It isn't just the doctor/nurse cliché I want to avoid; dating a colleague can be a real challenge in the workplace, especially if the relationship doesn't last. I've seen that happen more times than I care to count. I've never been interested in creating that level of awkwardness in my job. It could make things unbearable, and I love where I work far too much to get into such a situation. Or at least I _thought _I did. I've learned that it is easy to be cavalier when thinking in abstract terms. When one of your colleagues is a beautiful, extremely intelligent, earnest man, the very epitome of the kind of person you desire, those theories tend to get thrown out the window fairly quickly.

Until today, I was the human equivalent of the Berlin Wall. I had thick, tall barriers of concrete, barbed wire, and armed guards surrounding my heart. No doctor would ever get close enough to cross those barriers alive. While some men tried to scale the walls, they always got tripped up in interrogation. Today, all that changed. The beautiful man I've been falling for told me, in no uncertain terms, that he is definitely _NOT_ gay, and that he intended to prove it to me. I really didn't need to know that; the last vestige of hope for my heart was that he could never be mine because he was gay. Now, the Berlin Wall has been knocked down, and my heart came rushing out. While it did not run across the border to spend money in West Germany, it is in serious danger of becoming hopelessly attached to the young PICU Fellow with green eyes.

So here it is, universe—I'm putting it out there for you. My new goal is to merge East and West Germany together, repercussions be damned. I can no longer deny that I want this man, and I will stop at just about nothing to win him over. In the immortal words of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, I will simply need to "make it so." I have no intention of letting down Captain Picard _or_ my heart, most likely against my better judgment.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 7:23 AM 0 COMMENTS

**~xXx~**

**END NOTE: Thank you to everyone who is supporting this story by reading, reviewing, and tweeting. I am extremely appreciative. I haven't responded to all my reviews yet, but I figure that if I have time to write or review, you would prefer the writing option. Please know I read all reviews and humbly thank each and every one of you who takes the time to either read and/or review this little story. I heart you all.**


	8. Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Bikini

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Come visit the thread (twss) to see an actual parka peen wank and other naughty tidbits. I might even leave a few teasers out there, too: **

**bit(dot)ly/dppgGK**

**Thanks to TFX for being the best hammock spooner on the planet. Oh, and for her mean beta skillz, of course!**

**A special thanks to Ladyeire72 for pimping this story like mad and for pre-reading. I big time puffy heart you.**

**Things I own: Four Doctor Seuss scrub tops, including (naturally) **_**Green Eggs and Ham**_**.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, because that is Stephenie Meyer's domain. **

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**_**ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY BIKINI**_

I'm on my way to the call room when a sweet voice interrupts my thoughts. It brings me instantly back to when I was a little boy, and the way my mother's voice sounded when she would read to me at bedtime. As I get closer to the room, I recognize it as Bella.

"_Not in a box, not with a fox… I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere…"_

She's reading _Green Eggs and Ham_ to her little patient. Obviously, I have to look in on her and see this for myself. What I see stops me dead in my tracks.

Bella is standing at the bedside, holding an intubated baby. The sides of the crib are down, and he has lines dangling from his body. She's holding the breathing tube steady with one hand, and cradling the baby in her arms, gently rocking him from side to side. Seeing her like that, with such love and commitment on her smiling face, caring for a child who isn't even her own, sends shivers down my spine. I'm confused, because there is no book from which she could be reading.

"Swan? Weren't you just reading to your patient?"

"Hmm?" She looks up at me, and pops back into the moment. "I'm sorry, did you just ask me something, Cullen?"

"Yes. I distinctly heard you reading to your patient, didn't I?"

She giggles softly, so as not to disturb the baby.

"Cullen, what kind of nurse would I be if I couldn't recite stories from memory? There is virtually no way an ICU nurse could have enough free hands to hold a book and all the other contraptions we hook up to a child! I just recite the ones I know by heart. It's the same thing as reading, since they can't see the book anyhow."

"But the kid is sedated. He doesn't know which end is up. You know that!"

"Dr. Cullen, apparently they left out a few classes in your med school education. Come in here, and prepare to be schooled something proper."

I walk in and stand next to Bella.

"All right. Watch the monitor."

"What am I watching for?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Just humor me, okay? Watch the monitor."

_How the fuck am I supposed to watch the monitor when you are standing two feet away from me with a baby in your arms, Bella Swan? I might get a little distracted._

"Okay, I'm watching. Where are the fireworks?"

"Shh, Edward! You have to be still and quiet, or this won't work!"

I hold both my hands up in the universal, "I give up" sign. I watch as she nuzzles the baby's head, speaking softly, almost a coo. She starts whispering the _Green Eggs and Ham_ story where she left off. I find myself glancing back and forth between the monitor and Bella. She captures my eyes, and nods towards the monitor.

"See? Look at the heart rate! Look at the blood pressure!" She beams a wide grin at me.

Well, fuck me. Sure enough, the baby's vital signs went down, one of the signs they are more relaxed, and/or experiencing less pain.

"Huh, I've heard anecdotal evidence that doing that was possible, but I was skeptical."

"You have to know how to do it the right way, is all. It is very easy to make things worse and over-stimulate a baby, too. I've had little ones who are sedated, but the moment they hear their parents, their heart rate and blood pressure soar, because they want to be with their family."

"My mom used to read all the Dr. Seuss books to me when I was a little boy. I have such a fond memories of them."

"I know; they are so fun. I used to read along with my mom, since I knew all the words by heart."

I notice a little glint in Bella's eyes. "Everything okay, Swan?"

She sniffles a little. "Yeah, I just always get a little sad remembering my mom. I really miss her."

"Oh? She passed away?"

"Um, yeah, she died when I was 14. Cancer. It's one of the reasons I wanted to become a nurse."

I reach over and touch her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I can tell how much she meant to you." I wish there were more I could do to offer her some comfort.

"It was a long time ago, it just gets me every now and then. I'm fine."

"Well, if it is any consolation, looking at you now, with that baby in your arms, it's clear you'll be a natural when you become a mom."

"You mean _if_ I become a mom."

"I seem to recall you saying something along the lines of 'Not right now. Not for a while. End of story.'"

"Remember the caveat about not wanting to be a single parent? Yeah, I don't see anything happening there long term, so who knows?"

_Did she not fucking hear me during the epic "I'm not gay" speech?_

"Swan, I'm not a betting man, but I would have incredible odds if I bet on the fact that you will, one day, be a mother."

"Delude yourself, Cullen, by all means. Now, excuse me, but I need to get this little kiddo settled."

"Oh. Right." I yawn and stretch, absently scratching my stomach. I catch Bella sneaking a peek. Her eyes dart up towards mine, and she flushes her beautiful shade of Bella Red.

"Good night, Swan. I'm going to try to sleep for a few hours."

"Good night, Cullen. Not to worry, I will be wide awake, doing the real work!"

**~xXx~**

I have the night off, and I'm getting all my shit together for the tubing trip tomorrow. Suddenly, my phone buzzes. My heartbeat picks up, because I'm hoping it's Bella. When I glance at the number, I see it's just my mom.

"Hey, Mom. Yes, I'm actually at home. On rare occasions, they let me out of the hospital for good behavior. It's not like you haven't been through all this with Dad, you know."

"Well, hello to you, too, handsome! Did I hear your message correctly that I am to expect a party of two from you on Sunday?"

_Oh, shit. Here it comes. _

I flinch a bit when I hear my mom's statement. "Yes, Mother Dearest, that would be correct. Why?" I ask, suspiciously.

"I need to know how much food to prepare, my dearest son. I wouldn't want to leave anyone out."

"I'm fairly certain I could bring five extra people without advance warning and you would still have enough for everyone, Mom."

"So, are you going to tell me the name of our mystery guest?"

"Didn't I mention that to you in my voice mail?"

"No, mister, you most assuredly did not."

"Huh. Well…uh, Bella Swan will be joining us."

"_Bella_? Really?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I just… well, I didn't… I've known her for so long, but I didn't know she appealed to you."

"Is there something wrong with her?"

"No, heavens no! She's a delightful girl, Edward. Your father is very fond of her. I guess I never pictured you with a nurse before."

"Mom, it's not so much _what_ she is as _who_ she is. She could be a bag lady and still appeal to me."

"Huh."

"Mom? What does the 'huh' infer here?" I say, with a bit of warning in my tone.

"Oh, nothing."

"Mrs. Esme Cullen, that was definitely _not_ nothing."

"Simmer down. You're so jumpy! To be honest, I've been waiting for this day for a long time, and now that it's here, I'm just taking stock in who it is you've chosen."

"Jesus, Mom, it isn't like I've proposed to her. I simply asked her to come to my birthday dinner. We aren't even really dating yet."

"Yet."

I sigh. You cannot get anything past the razor sharp ears of Esme Cullen. "Right. I'm working on that part."

"Edward, you've _never_ brought anyone home to meet your father and me. It's significant that you invited her."

"Yes, I realize that. Please do me a favor and don't fuss all over her. Try to act like this isn't a big deal. I don't want to scare her away."

"I promise I will be on my best behavior. I can't speak for your father, however."

"I already cornered him, too, so we should be all right. Can I bring anything, by the way?"

"You did not just ask me if you could bring something to your own birthday celebration!"

"I was being polite, Mom."

"No, bring yourself and bring Bella. The rest will fall into place."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you, you know, down to every last meddling bit of you."

"Meddling? Me? Do you really want to go there?"

"Nooooo. Absolutely not. I'll see you Sunday."

"Love you too, my boy."

I end my call and send Bella a quick text about tomorrow morning. We agreed that she, Alice, and Jasper would ride along in the Volvo. I want to make sure I have the pick up time right.

_**Pick up still 0800?**_

My phone instantly chirps its notification that I have received a text.

_**UGH, yes. Sbux run en route ok?**_

I smile at her response.

_**DUH. Of course!**_

My phone chirps before I have the chance to set it down.

_**Smartass! Do u have dir to my place?**_

I roll my eyes.

_**Yes, remember that map u printed 4 me?**_

_**Just checking! See u 8!**_

_**Goodnight, B.**_

_**Night.**_

_**Sleep tight.**_

_**What r u, peepaw? Don't let bedbugs bite.**_

_**U know, we have prob w/bedbug outbreaks in US…**_

_**Go to bed, Cullen!**_

_**Is that an offer?**_

_**ALONE.**_

_**: ( Now I'm deeply wounded. Kiss my booboo?**_

_**Booboo? Srsly?**_

_**Gotta give me an A for effort.**_

_**Goodnight, Cullen. See you in AM.**_

_**Night, Swan.**_

I finished preparing for tomorrow while I was on the phone with Esme, so climb into bed with a bottle of Delerium Tremens and my Mac. As I boot it up, I take a moment to savor my beer.

_Damn, those Belgians know how to make a mean brew._

I check my inbox, and notice there are a few blog updates for the Nightingale Journals that I haven't read yet. With Bella's texts still fresh in my mind, I decide to go check them out.

I read the entry on Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and I nearly spit out a mouthful of beer on my laptop. Christ, she even brings her own supply of pens? It sounds extreme, but it's actually good practice. I love it that she is so detail oriented. There are a host of nurses I would never trust with anything important, but Bella will _never_ be among them. I smile to myself, remembering how vigilant she is about docs using hand sanitizers the minute they enter a room. Sadly, I know that doctors are especially prone to cross-contaminating patients as they travel from room to room to do assessments. Although I already respect her nursing skills immensely, this blog entry deepens my level of respect immeasurably.

On that note, it surprises me that her next blog entry is titled, "Respect." Curious. It is an abbreviated entry, and I can tell from the date stamp that she wrote it shortly after the Titmouse Affair concluded. I know I should be paying attention to the entire message that Bella was conveying, but my eyes keep returning to the passage:

_I will take this green-eyed doctor any way in which I can get him._

I feel my dick harden as I imagine the many ways in which Bella could get me. For a brief second, I worry about what I will do if we ever get the chance to have sex. If just thinking about her makes me this hard, what will it be like if she is constantly in my presence? I would want to be inside of her 24/7, and that simply isn't possible. Could my absolute need for her ever be satiated? This is a very genuine concern, but I put it on a back shelf in my mind for future reference.

When I finish reading her most recent blog entry, the world as I knew it ceases to exist. I'm not even sure how many times I've read it, trying to truly comprehend the significance of her words.

… _one of your colleagues is a beautiful, extremely intelligent, earnest man, the very epitome of the kind of person you desire…_

… _I can no longer deny that I want this man, and I will stop at just about nothing to win him over. In the immortal words of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, I will simply need to "make it so."_

_Wait, what? I'm the epitome of what she wants? She's trying to win ME over?_

I'm trying to calm myself down, but my body isn't buying into that plan. I have butterflies in my stomach, my heart rate is racing, my hands are shaking, and I have the goofiest grin known to man on my face. Not to mention that my cock is so hard it might as well be steel.

_The woman I practically stalked while I was still in med school wants me as badly as I want her._

Because I'm home alone, and it's my house, I hop off my bed and pound my fist into the air while shouting, "BELLA SWAN FUCKING WANTS MY ASS!!" I collapse back onto my bed, giddy and laughing out loud at my own moronic display. The beauty of choosing to have a couch-jumping moment when you're by yourself is that no one will ever know about it.

I happen to take a glance at my clock and notice that I need to get to bed if I want even a decent amount of sleep. God knows, if everything goes as planned, I won't get much sleep tomorrow night. Recognizing that I'm way too keyed up to get to sleep any time soon, I opt to take a melatonin tablet, and drift off to sleep rather easily afterwards.

**~xXx~**

My neighborhood, Sand Point, is very close to the hospital. It makes commuting a breeze, so when I get the chance to crash at home, I take it. Bella, Alice and Jasper live on Union Bay, just across the I-5 from the University District. Since we need to hop on the I-5 to get to I-90, it makes more sense for me to pick them up on our way out of town.

Bella is waiting for me downstairs when I arrive. The minute our eyes meet, she beams a huge smile at me. As I pull my car up, I notice what she's wearing. Or, rather, what she _isn't_ wearing. She has on a tiny dress, and I can see her random bits of her bikini top peeking out from gaps of uncovered skin. My dick is definitely interested in exploring that tiny dress further; I make a mental note to adjust myself discretely at the next available opportunity. This is going to be a long fucking car ride.

Bella rushes to the door and opens it. She flops into the seat next to me.

"Dude, we need coffee, and we need it STAT!!"

"I hear you! The sooner Jasper and Alice get in the car, the sooner I can deliver you to Starbucks."

"Oh, yeah. They were right behind me…" she looks over to the front door, trying to spot our companions. "Oh, hang on! I have something for you—I want you to open it before they get here."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because it is a private gift. For your birthday. I don't want to embarrass you too much. Here."

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a gift. She hands me the wrapped, flat package.

"So, I open it right now? Even though it isn't really my birthday yet?"

She rolls her eyes at me.

"Yes, Edward. Now. It's not something you want to open in front of your parents, I assure you."

I remove the paper at an agonizingly slow rate, just to push her buttons.

"Go as slowly as you want, but I'm telling you, I don't think you want Alice and Jasper in on this."

I smirk at her then rip the remaining paper off.

_Huh. This is… unexpected. Calvin Klein boxer briefs._

"Underwear, Bella? I don't get it."

"No, you don't get it, so someone had to get it for you."

"What?"

"Obviously, you have none of your own, so you needed a little bit of help. Now you won't drive us all crazy."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Are you suffering from brain damage today? Commando, Cullen. Stop the commando."

"How the hell do you know I sometimes go commando?"

"Cullen, a blind man in outer space could tell you go commando under your scrubs! You are definitely advertising the merchandise! And please, give me a break—_sometimes_? You _sometimes _go commando? Ah, no. I'd say most of the time."

"Is it my fault that you're a perv and like to ogle my junk? No one else has ever mentioned my undergarment status before."

"Yeah, well, they're just being nice to you. Like I said, you advertise the merchandise—I'm not a perv, and I'm also not blind. You can't miss it, believe me."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Wipe those crimples off your face, Cullen. It won't work with me!"

"What the hell are crimples?"

"That scrunched up face thing you do. You use it to your advantage all the time."

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about, but here come our friends."

"It doesn't matter. I've saved my other gift to give you at your parent's house. It's more family appropriate, so you won't need to worry."

Just then, Alice comes skipping up to the car, while Jasper takes his time. I get out to help them load their gear into the trunk. Jasper and I bump fists informally, and nod our heads at each other. Standard issue guy greeting.

When we're all in the car, I announce that the next stop is Starbucks. Bella navigates to their regular Starbucks location, and we all shuffle inside. It's clear we'll be zombies until we get our caffeine infusions.

Bella is first in line. "Hey, Red! You're opening this weekend?"

"Yeah, we're kinda short staffed at the moment. You know how it goes. Do you need a Bella this morning?"

"Yep, I need a Bella with an extra shot of espresso. And an Edward."

"Oh, your fictional boyfriend is with you today?" he teases.

Bella's face turns bright red, and I'm more than a little annoyed with "Red."

_Leave my Bella the fuck alone, dude. _

I step up next to Bella, standing so close to her our shoulders touch.

"It just so happens that I am neither fictional nor absent."

I give Red a healthy _Do Not Fuck With Me_ look. He doesn't need to know I'm not her boyfriend. Hopefully, after this weekend, that will all change, anyhow.

"Wow, you're real? We thought for sure it was a ploy by Bella to get Stonehead to stop flirting with her."

Bella huffs out, "I _told_ you he was real!"

I move to put my arm around Bella, making our relationship status solidified in their minds, once and for all.

"Yes, I'm definitely _very_ real."

That shut Red the fuck up.

As we're waiting for our drinks, I ask Bella, "What is an Edward, if I may ask?"

"It is a venti Americano with six shots, and coffee instead of hot water."

"Jesus, I just drink what you bring me—I had no idea it was so potent."

"It keeps you awake, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go. You aren't any useful to me if your mind is not alert."

I move in a little more closely, so I can whisper in her ear.

"There are many ways I can be useful to you, you know."

I hear her breath hitch, and I smile inside knowing that I am capable of earning that kind of response from her.

We all grab our coffee and load up into the car for our two-hour drive to Leavenworth, leaving Red and his cohorts in the dust.

**~xXx~**

We arrive at the Wenatchee River around 10:30. We're a little bit later than we expected to be, due to the many potty breaks we took along the way. Jasper and I got in some good teasing about how tiny the girls' bladders are, after which we were threatened with Foley catheter insertion, using unsterile technique. I have to hand it to them, you never want to cross a nurse the wrong way—they have a huge arsenal of torture implements at their disposal. And they know how to use them.

We join up with the rest of the group, a small collection of nurses from the PICU. It turns out that I'm the only doc on the trip, so I know I'm in for a world of hurt once these nurses get started on me. If the amount of alcohol stocked in their coolers is any indication, we're going to be a wild and rowdy bunch by the end of the tubing trip.

We all hop on the shuttle bus to get to the landing site. The minute we arrive, we exit the bus quickly, anxious to start our trip. Bella steps off to the side, then turns around and whips off her tiny cover up. She bends over to stuff it into her waterproof bag, so her ass is sticking straight out, just inches away from me. The bottom of her suit has crawled up, leaving at least half of her butt cheek exposed. It takes all my effort to keep from cupping her ass in my hands and pulling it into my hard cock. When she stands up again, I see she has sunscreen in her hand.

"Edward, could you please spray this on for me? I burn like no one's business if I forget it."

My brain stops functioning for a minute. I take in the sight of Bella, in a tiny navy blue bikini, directly in front of me. She thinks I'll be capable of putting sunscreen on her? How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can't even say my name, much less operate complicated machinery like a spray can!

With her beautiful, happy visage, she looks absolutely radiant and beams positive energy all around her. I rarely see this carefree side of her at work, since she is somewhat introspective in her approach to patient care. I like what I see, very much. Almost too much. Even with the information I gleaned from her blogs last night, I need to be careful not to scare her away with my intensity.

"Edward? Did you hear me?" Bella waves her hands in front of my face.

"Yes, sunscreen, right. I can do that."

_I hope._

She shakes her head and giggles, handing me the can.

_Fuck me, she knows exactly what she's doing to me, the little minx!_

While I go about my work, my mind wanders. For as long as I can remember, breasts have fascinated me. I love to look at them, touch them, taste them. They're so soft and inviting. They're beautiful when covered under snug-fitting sweaters, or adorned by sexy, revealing lingerie. However, I believe that they are best enjoyed in their sublime, au naturel state, with nipples hardened not by the cold, but in response to the sheer ecstasy delivered by a maestro's touch. Hell yes, I consider myself to be a maestro! I can play a pair of breasts like no one else.

Bella turns so that I can coat the front of her body, and I recognize that I am wholly unprepared to deal with the front side of Bella Swan's torso. I am even more unprepared when I happen to notice that she has three nipples on each breast.

_What the fuck? Three nipples? On each one?_

Upon closer inspection, the appearance of nipples two and three alongside nipple one becomes perfectly clear. The happen to be small, round, smooth orbs, on either side of her erect nipple.

_Fuuuuuuck. Swan's nipples are pierced!_

Right about now, I'm wishing that I would have opted for a drag queen tuck this morning, because the tent has been pitched at Camp Cullen. In fact, the tent pitching crew (i.e., Bella Swan) has done such an incredible job, the camp's tenting has never been more taut or tense.

Exactly how I am going to make it through the next 24 minutes pales in comparison to the next 24 hours. I'm in deep danger of priapism once again. I briefly ponder sneaking into the woods to whack off covertly, until Bella snaps me out of my reverie by smacking my ass for all she's worth.

_Like I'm not fucking hard enough already, Swan?_

She shrieks out, "Last one in is a rotten egg, Cullen! HAUL ASS!!" and I watch her hot little ass disappear down the bank towards the river.

_Shit. It's official; I'm doomed._

FRIDAY, JUNE 16, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_ROUGH WATER_

_The Nightingale Journals_ is on hiatus for the weekend. I'm going to be off "making it so" with my delightful green-eyed friend. It will be interesting to see how the good doctor and I will handle the rough river water together. One thing will remain perfectly clear: This will be an absolute test on any future viability we might share.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 23:08 PM 0 COMMENTS

**A/N: Once again, you all pwn me with your amazing and awesome reviews, which I appreciate so much. I will do my best to reply as I am able, but again, for the sake of getting chapters out more quickly, I will focus on the writing versus the review replies. I read every single one, and appreciate all that you have to say in support of my story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.**


	9. Rolling On the River

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROB! I'm not sure, but I do believe gazing at your smile could bring about world peace. Srsly, one look, and there's no way you could be sad or disgruntled. You're lovely.**

**Things I own: A Twilight/New Moon board game I got for Mother's Day. They meant well.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who is a superb human being.**

**CHAPTER EIGHT: ROLLING ON THE RIVER**

"It's nothing more than dental floss, Alice! I can't possibly wear that!"

"Wait a minute… you _do_ want Cullen, right?"

"Of course. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life."

"All right then. The only possible conclusion to reach is that you must wear this, Bella. He won't be able to keep his eyes—or his hands—off of you."

"Are you sure?"

She doesn't even answer me—she just gives me the stink eye and hands me the dental floss, AKA the bikini.

I grab a couple of petals from my lingerie drawer. Before I stick them on, I decide to ask Alice about them.

"Do you think these will stay attached if I'm in the water all day?"

"What the hell are you putting on petals for?"

"Well, duh, to cover up my piercings!"

"And you want to do that because…?" she pauses for dramatic effect.

"Look, Alice, I'm going to be wearing dental floss all day—I'm not going to shove my nipple piercing in his face, too."

"Why not?"

"It's not particularly something I want everyone to know I have."

Alice shakes her head in dismay. "Oh Bella, for someone who is such a natural beauty, you just don't get it, do you? It's all the nurses plus Cullen today, right?"

"Yes," I hesitate.

"Do you care if the other nurses know you are pierced?"

"Hell no, it's none of their business."

"Right. And Cullen is going to jizz in his pants over them. So again, why do you want to cover them up?"

"I'm trying to be as modest as one can be while sporting dental floss."

"Exactly! In other words, lose the petals. He'll go cross-eyed the minute he sees your piercings, I promise."

"I don't know…"

Alice looks at me with her best Godfather impersonation. "Isabella Marie Swan, _ditch the petals._"

"Okay, okay, it just feels wrong."

"Not another word!"

I grumble as I don the dental floss, and then pull on my cover up. Even with that on, I feel like I'm showing off way too much skin. I don't want to feel awkward all day, but Alice is insistent, and it's easier for me to put up with my awkwardness than it is to put up with a steamed Alice for an entire day.

I slip Edward's gift into my bag along with all my supplies for the trip and get ready to head out the door. Alice and Jasper are having a quiet conversation about what to pack when I approach them.

"Okay, then, I'm all set. Remember not to come down for at least ten minutes so I have time to give him his gift, all right?"

Alice giggles lightly, and Jasper flashes me his winning grin. "I wish I could see his face as he opens it, but I understand that you want to do that alone. See you in a few, Bells. Good luck!"

I'm a few minutes early, so I pull out my iPod to keep my mind occupied on anything besides how little I am wearing. I might as well be naked, seriously. I need something loud to drown out the noise banging around inside of my brain. My _Clash_ playlist ought to do the trick.

I'm jamming out with Joe Strummer and the strains of _Clash City Rockers_ when I see the Green-Eyed Monster himself pull up in front of me. He is so beautiful, and I'm so excited to spend the entire day with him, that I beam out what has to be a ridiculously huge smile. I simply cannot help myself, but it unnerves me all the same.

As the car comes to a stop, I rush over and open the passenger side door, and quickly complain about needing coffee. He returns my smile, and mentions that we can't go anywhere without Alice and Jasper. I feign innocence, of course, because I want a few minutes alone with him to give him his gift. I reach into my bag and present it to him, explaining why it is important for him to open by himself.

When he sees the package of boxer briefs in front of him, his face goes blank. I'm not surprised it isn't what he expected. I take a minute to explain the significance, and he has the gumption to act all innocent, like he only goes commando once in a blue moon. I shake my head in mock disgust when he mentions that he _sometimes_ goes commando at work. I set that shit straight in a heartbeat.

Alice and Jasper walk through the front doors with perfect timing, and we're shortly on our way to Starbucks, haven of caffeinoholics worldwide. Red happens to be on this morning, so he starts one of my standard drinks; I ask him to add in an Edward, too. He teases me about my fictional boyfriend, something he does every time he makes our drinks. I feel my face flush, but before I can say anything, Edward cuts in, standing so close to me that our shoulders touch.

"It just so happens that I am neither fictional nor absent," I hear his velvety voice reply, as he wraps his arm around my waist.

I have butterflies in my stomach and feel my heart race as he pulls me close to him. His freshly showered scent wafts over me, one that is purely, uniquely Edward. I could smell it fifty years from now, and it would still remind me of him, it is that distinct and potent.

He continues, looking Red straight in the eyes. "Yes, I'm definitely _very_ real."

I've never seen Red so subdued. Then again, if I didn't know any better, I would say that Edward is acting a tad territorial, which surprises the hell out of me. It isn't like we're together or anything. Still, his willingness to be my knight in shining armor at a moment's notice is certainly very appealing. In fact, it's downright hot.

He leans over to whisper in my ear, and the sensation of his breath sends shivers down my spine. "What is an Edward, if I may ask?"

I answer his question, but he doesn't move his mouth away from my ear. When he murmurs that there are _many_ ways in which he could be useful to me, it goes straight to my girlie bits, and I hear my own breath hitch. When I look up into his eyes moments later, you can tell he is full of smug satisfaction. Normally, if I guy reacted that way to me, I would kick him in the nuts, but for some reason, Edward doesn't provoke any such type of response. He totally deserves to be smug, because I'll be damned, his game is good. Who am I to argue with him?

During the drive, we all take animatedly and take a number of potty stops along the way. Naturally, the guys don't have to whiz nearly as often as we do. We threaten to stick Foley catheters in them if they don't shut it. After that, they were surprisingly moot on the subject. It just goes to show you, threaten a man's peen, and they take you seriously.

During the lulls in conversation, I try to subtly check Edward out. He's so cute when he concentrates, and it's hard to keep my eyes off of him. I get to watch his hands in motion, and it makes me realize how underappreciated hands are, in general. Edward's hands should have an international prayer of thanksgiving attached to them, they are that perfect. Yes, ladies of the world, we should all be grateful that the search for perfect pair of hands is complete—they belong to Edward A. Cullen, M.D.

_God, what he can do with those fingers! Those hands are so talented, too._

I blush at the thought of Edward's hands and fingers and where I'd like them to be. I notice he catches me staring at them and I feel hideously awkward. Jesus, he catches me ogling the goods on a daily basis, and it's fricking embarrassing. I can't believe he never calls me on it, but I'm grateful all the same.

When we finally arrive at our destination, I'm disappointed that my front row view of Edward is officially gone. Most of the other nurses are already waiting for us. I grimace when I see Jessica and Lauren gossiping nearby. While it would be rude not to include everyone on the trip invitation, I wished more than once that we could somehow keep those two from finding out. Their mean girl antics are bad enough in the work environment; ply them both with alcohol, however, and their meanness gets ratcheted up ten notches. I just know they're both going to hang all over Edward, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

"Swan, you all right?" Edward has a look of genuine concern on his face; sometimes, I'm such an open book it isn't funny.

"Yeah, I'm fine. No worries, doctor," I try to reassure him.

The Thompson Twins waste no time sidling up to Edward.

_Fuckers. He's MINE._

We're subjected to Jessica's screech first—she is clearly already three sheets to the wind. "EDWARD! I didn't know _you_ were going to be here! You should totally hook up with our inner tubes! We have the best booze!" She giggles at her own inane hilarity.

"What's wrong with your eyes, Bella? Did you get some dust in them or something? You should really do something about that, you know. It can destroy your vision."

_No, Lauren, I do not have any dust in my eyes. It's called the stink eye, and you're getting it. From me. So back off._

"Oh, my vision is completely fine, thank you. And you know what, Lauren? I'm a nurse, too, so I know all about how the body works. You might be surprised to learn that you don't hold a monopoly on that kind of information." I look her straight in the eyes, to let her know she doesn't intimidate me in the slightest.

She just grimaces and gives me a little "Hmm" in reply.

"Dr. Cullen, you should come sit by us on the bus. We have a great version of coffee to go." Lauren holds her to go cup up to Edward's nose and he grimaces. It's straight booze.

"_Dr. Cullen"? Really? Could you be more obvious, Stanley?_

"I hope you didn't bring that in the car with you. I think I'll just stick to what we brought with us. Oh, and I'm already partnered up for the trip."

Lauren wastes no time giving me an incredulous look; she really can't believe Cullen is hanging with me instead of her. As proud and happy as I am to be partnered with Edward for the day, nothing could possibly give me more satisfaction than one-upping Lauren Mallory. It's like instant revenge, just being able to stand next to him while she pouts.

We head over to wait for the bus together, with Edward and Jasper toting our cooler. The tubing rental company has tubes available for coolers, so you can easily tote them along on the ride. It's essentially an afternoon of lazy tubing, drunkenness, and fun. The added bonus? I'm going to be physically attached to Dr. Edward Cullen all afternoon. Well, at least my inner tube will be, that is.

As we await the bus, I pull a baseball hat out of my bag. It says, in bold letters, _This Guy Sure Knows How to Party_, and has a couple of liquor bottles on it, inscribed with XXX. It's tacky, hokey, and a memento of many past bouts of drunkenness.

I can see Edward reading the wording, and let him finish before I explain it.

"Dr. Cullen, this is the world famous PICU Party Hat. Whenever we meet up for drinks, weddings, outings, or staff parties, the hat comes with us. It is passed along from one person to the next, depending upon who is the most drunk or making the biggest fool of themselves. I will bet good money that, at some point today, this hat will grace your head."

Jasper chimes in. "Oh hell yes, Cullen wears that hat, hands down. It is my personal mission to get it on him as soon as possible!"

Edward's mouth is agape, but we don't leave it there.

"That's just because you're tired of being the one who always wears it, Jazz," I say, placing it proudly on top of his head.

"Whitlock, you let these petite women get the best of you in a drinking match? What kind of man are you?" Edward adds, laughing heartily. He's even more beautiful when he laughs.

I giggle out loud. "He's a murse, Edward! He's man enough. Really!"

"Dude, these women are drinking demons from hell! Seriously! Don't say I didn't warn you!"

Edward is laughing and shaking his head all the while. "You can't convince me! They're not capable of it. No way."

Alice raises her eyebrow. "You're really going to regret saying that, Cullen. I may be small, but I've got a big brain and an even bigger tolerance for alcohol. You really have been warned. Twice now. We ICU nurses are _hard core_." She pokes on his chest for emphasis.

"Okay, so what is the bet, short run?"

"Hey! You're only getting away with saying that because you're with Bella. Remember, I'm the perfect height to take out a testicle or two!"

Edward moves to cover his goods, but keeps laughing. "Okay, I get it. How about loser pays for the hotel room tonight?"

"_Perfect!_"

"I hope you have plenty of cash with you, Chiquita!" Edward taunts.

"Oh, I'm not the one who needs to worry, believe me."

The bus finally pulls up, and we all pile in. Lauren and Jessica split up, trying to lure Edward to sit by one of them. He walks straight past them and pulls me into a seat with him. For the second time today, and within the span of merely one hour, revenge tastes so sweet.

Squeezed next to Edward in an old school bus seat is certainly my idea of heaven. The seats are so small that our outer legs touch during the entire ride, as do our sides and arms. The effect is so charged, I can feel my body erupt in goosebumps. My breath hitches for the second time today, and I look over at Edward, who is looking directly at me. His gaze is so intense, I have to avert my eyes at once; I feel like he just stripped off my clothes with his eyes. I feel naked and exposed, and I love it. He reacts with a subtle, sly grin, accompanied by the crimples.

_Fuck! Those crimples just kill me. Those crimples could coerce me into doing nefarious things, of this I am certain. _

I lean over and whisper into his ear, "You know, I should have them charge you with assault with a deadly weapon."

His face instantly turns into a mask of confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

Now it's my turn to put on the sly grin. "Crimples. You used the Crimple Effect on me Cullen, and it's about time you paid the price for your debauched ways."

He laughs heartily with a sunny smile on his face, and all is well in my world. That smile could cheer anyone up.

_This is going to be the best day ever, I can already feel it._

The bus pulls to a stop, and we all rifle out. Before I do anything else, I need to get my sunscreen on. My skin is so fair, I burn to a crisp readily. I turn around to ask Alice, but she and Jasper are apparently busy procuring inner tubes for us. I whip off my cover up and put it into my waterproof bag, then grab the sunscreen.

I hold out the can to him, asking for assistance. "Edward, could you please spray this on for me? I burn like no one's business if I forget it."

He looks as though he's going cross-eyed, standing still as if he is a deer caught in the headlights.

I wave my hands in front of his face to get his attention. "Edward? Did you hear me?"

He shakes his head abruptly, then answers me. "Yes, sunscreen, right. I can do that."

I giggle at his display; I didn't know he could be such a goofball. To me, goofball is good, however. It helps cut down some of my anxiety I'm experiencing, standing in front of him wearing nothing more than dental floss.

I lift my hair out of the way, putting it into an impromptu ponytail, while Edward sprays my backside. He squats down when he gets to my legs, and I can feel his breath on my thighs. A small moan escapes from my throat unexpectedly, before I am even aware of its presence. Edward stops spraying and simply asks if I'm all right. I feign innocence and pretend nothing happened.

"Okay, you can turn around."

His gaze goes straight to my tits, and I notice his eyes get a little wider, as if in surprise.

_Shit, he noticed the nipples. Shit, shit, shit!_

Then I notice that he is genuinely checking my rack out. I'm all astonishment, but the look on his face changes from utter surprise to, if I am not mistaken, lust.

_Dr. Edward Cullen, are you a naughty boy? I think you are!_

He swallows hard, then asks me to hold out my arms. His eyes move quickly away from my boobs and focus on the rest of my body.

_I feel like such a skank. Goddamn dental floss._

When the sunscreen application is complete, he hands me back the can and I toss it into my bag. I note that Jasper and Alice are already half way down to the river, so I do something impulsive. To speed him along, I slap Cullen in the ass and scream at him to haul ass, then take off running down the hill. Edward is hot on my tail, and we both manage to jump into the river at the same moment. Our momentum sends a huge wave into the air, and it lands directly over Jessica and Lauren. They screech at the top of their lungs, and turn to see what caused such a ruckus.

Lauren focuses on me, squinting her eyes. "Fuck you, Swan! Knock it off!" Acting like the 13 year old girl she is, she splashes us back. I roll my eyes at her.

Edward looks at me, aghast, then starts giggling. It's so funny to hear a grown man giggle, that I start giggling too, and neither one of us can stop. Our laughter builds to a full, rolling boil, and we run through the water to catch Jasper and Alice. We have a quad of inner tubes surrounding our cooler tube, perfectly poised for a sunny afternoon on the river.

"Doctor, I do declare—I feel a headache coming on something terrible! I wonder if a cool beverage may be of some help." I do my best impersonation of Scarlet O'Hara, which is to say it is abysmally bad.

"How about I give you a beer and you drop that lameass accent for the rest of the day?"

"Keep me plied with liquor and you have yourself a deal, Party Man."

"Party Man? What?"

"Oh, you'll be wearing the Party Hat. Trust me."

He just gives me a sly grin, then takes a swig of his beer. He hasn't noticed that I'm still empty handed.

"Um, Edward?" I wiggle my fingers around, implying that they need to be filled.

"Oh, right. Sorry. What's your poison?"

"Woodpecker Cider, please."

"I wondered whose that was. Savvy choice, Swan," he says, handing it over to me.

"Why thank you, dear doctor," I move to clink our bottles together.

Edward and I are positioned in our inner tubes so that are feet are hanging over the front, and our arms almost touch. I can still smell him, laced with beer, and I close my eyes for a minute to relish the moment. He nudges my arm to make me open my eyes.

"What?"

"I didn't think I was _that_ boring. We haven't been in the tubes for more than ten minutes, and already I put you to sleep?"

"Noooo, Cullen, I was just savoring the moment. The smell of the beer, the sun on my face, pleasant company. It's perfect."

"Oh, by pleasant company, I assume you're referring to Stanley and Mallory?"

"Right. Exactly," I snort.

"Swan, you've only started your beer and already with the snorting?"

To pretend I'm all intimidating, I use my fingers to form a v shape, and point them at my eyes, then at Edward's eyes, indicating that I have my eyes on him.

"I'm petrified of you! Postively petrified!"

"Did you or did you not hear my threat about unsterile Foley catheter placement earlier, Cullen? It is not wise to toy with an ICU nurse, you know!"

I swig down the last of my cider. "Oh barkeep! I need a refill!"

Edward bows his head to me, indicating that he will fulfill my every request. "At your service, ma'am," handing me another bottle. "Wanna play twenty questions?"

"Uh, sure."

"I'll warn you, nothing is off the table, though."

"I understand. I have no deep, dark secrets. Except that I keep a guy in a gimp suit locked in a trunk in my garage, but that doesn't count, does it?" I snort again.

"Oh, no, nothing tame like that is a problem," he says, completely earnest. "So, why did you want to become a nurse?"

"I told you, because of my mom's bout with cancer."

"But you're so smart, Bella. You could have been a doctor, an oncologist, anything."

"What exactly are you implying here? That nurses aren't smart?" I cannot believe he said that in front of a group of nurses.

"No, god no, that's not what I meant! It's just that you're driven, determined, analytic, and you have dynamite assessment skills. You would have been a top notch doctor."

"Instead, I'm a top notch nurse. It isn't like a step down, you know. Honestly, it never appealed to me nor occurred to me to be a doc. Throughout my mom's entire hospitalization, it was the nurses who were always there. They were the ones who knew her best, who provided the continuity of care, who fought on her behalf with the docs. We rarely saw or spoke to the doctors. To be honest, you couldn't pay me to be a doctor. I have the best of all possible worlds. Trust me, you have to be smart to be a nurse, too. I'll try not to hold that comment against you."

"Point taken. Sorry if I offended you."

"No worries. I'll always put you in your place. Or cut off your balls. One of the two."

"For the sake of any future Cullen progeny, I ask that 'put in your place' always be option one."

"That can be arranged, Cullen. If you behave yourself otherwise."

"Duly noted. Your question, Swan."

"Why did you choose to go into exactly the same field as your dad? You could have done anything, and made your life so much easier, you know?"

"Oh, believe me, I know. I simply admire the man so much; he's my hero. He's brilliant, and charming, and funny. He's well respected by his peers, he's a great teacher, and a great researcher. I wanted to do him proud, I guess."

"I have no doubt that he's proud of you, Edward. One look at his face when he was introducing you as the new Fellow made that perfectly clear."

"Really? I guess I don't see that as much. I mean, I know he's proud, we just don't talk about it a lot, you know?"

"Yeah, I hear you. My dad is less of a conversationalist than I am, so our phone calls are remarkably brief. The loudest thing at the dinner table is the forks scratching on the plates!"

"I don't get it."

"What?"

"I always have such an easy time talking to you. It seems like we never run out of things to say."

"Ah. You see, that's because _you_ are a conversationalist. You make it easy."

"No, I always attributed the ease to you. You seem to have a way with people; you make them calm down. Especially like when we're in the middle of a code. You're always calm, cool, and collected."

"It's a learned behavior, Edward. I can assure you, if you were to take my vitals during a code, you could tell my adrenaline was pumping."

"It's your turn."

Edward's eyes are locked on my boobs.

"Edward? It's your turn."

"Why did you pierce your nipples?"

"You honestly want to know that?"

"Well, yes, I do. I've never seen pierced nipples before."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously."

"Well then, maybe I'll have to show them to you sometime."

I see Edward swallow hard. "Swan, you can't joke about stuff like that with me. You just can't."

I lean over the side of my inner tube, putting my chin in my palms, only inches from his face. The action squishes my boobs together. "What makes you think I'm joking?"

"Because you just said you'd show me your tits."

"Mmmhmm. I did. I meant it."

I can tell he's trying to be sneaky about it, but I totally catch him adjusting himself. "Why, exactly, would you do that?"

"Cullen, it's just a pair of tits. It's not like we're going to dry hump each other afterwards."

"Well, it sounds an awful lot like you're asking me to demonstrate one of the many ways in which I am not gay."

Now it's my turn to swallow hard. "So, should I show you, then you could show me how you're not gay?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

I catch myself whimpering, and bite my lower lip. "I think I need a refill, first."

He reaches over to rub his thumb over my lip. "It fucking kills me when you do that to your lip. Do you even have a clue how sexy you are? If you do, then biting your lip in that way is torture, you know. Pure, mean, unadulterated torture."

Edward leans over to grab more beer, when he suddenly tumbles out of his tube and into the river. Surprised, I scream, which captures Jasper and Alice's attention. Jasper starts to laugh, grabs the Party Hat, and swims over to Edward. Giving him a hand, he pulls him up out of the water and slaps the hat onto his head.

"Congratulations, Doc! You're the new Party Man!"

Edward is suddenly all crimples and laughter, and we all high five him when he returns to the tubes.

"Cullen, I think I need to cut you off!" I giggle.

He looks at me with that same lusty gaze from before. "Yeah? Well, I need to know how many more you need before that bikini top comes off." I see his eyes drift down to my breasts.

I can feel my face flush, even in the warm sunlight. Edward reaches over and strokes my cheek. I allow my face to rest in his hand, and it feels so right. As if his hand was always meant to be there. I close my eyes to take in the sensation.

What happens next is completely unexpected.

I feel a pair of warm, soft lips touch my own, and my eyes instantly pop open. Edward Cullen, M.D., is fucking kissing me! Kissing _me_! He puts his other hand on my cheek, so my face is now cradled between his beautiful hands.

I've admitted this before—I'm a very oral person. I love to kiss. Kissing is my own personal brand of Kryptonite. This kiss, however, is no ordinary kiss. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before.

To say that Edward Cullen is a superb kisser is a joke. It's like blasphemy. I mean, this man has genuine _skillz_. His tongue is long and talented. I look forward to a time when other parts of my anatomy can be graced by its presence.

Perhaps it is the pent up energy and emotion that makes this kiss so extraordinary. There's so much behind it, it's like we're having a fucking conversation via this kiss. My head feels hazy, but I'm not sure if it is the alcohol, the kiss, or a combination of both. This kiss owns me. It consumes me. It's everything. All I know is that I'm in this moment, with Edward, choosing to savor every last little bit of it. If I could do nothing more than kiss him until the second I die, I'd be perfectly content with a life well lived.

He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling on it, and I moan a little louder than I mean to. I lace my fingers into his hair, and pull him towards me more forcefully. I hear myself moan aloud again, and start to get embarrassed. Then it dawns on me—_I didn't moan. Neither did Edward, unless he suddenly became a soprano._

Lauren's scream breaks through my thoughts.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! Jessica passed out!"

_Fuck. There goes my kiss._


	10. Make It So So

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: In the opening author's notes for this story, I mentioned that this is **_**loosely **_**based on two of my one-shots. As the UST begins to be resolved, you will notice it unfolding a little differently than in those stories. It makes more sense in the narrative to have it unfold this way. It also keeps the story fresh for you as a reader, so that I'm not just cutting the one-shot and pasting it within the story. Just wanted to make sure this is all abundantly clear. **

**Things I own: One ticket for the midnight showing of **_**Eclipse**_** (and yes, I AM geeky enough to buy tickets to see the **_**Twilight**_**/**_**New Moon**_** double feature ahead of time).**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers.**

**Thanks to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading and being an incredibly kind cheerleader. I love your love of my story. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, for giving me her support as I weave this story. ILY, bb.**

**CHAPTER NINE: MAKE IT SO-SO**

The sound of Lauren Mallory screeching at the top of her lungs is the most unwelcome noise I've ever heard. I'm inches away from getting Bella Swan to reveal her erotic as hell nipple piercings for me, and Mallory fucking ruins the perfect moment.

In the far recesses of my mind, I recognize that Lauren did squeal something about Jessica passing out, and, as a medical doctor, I am obliged to check on the situation.

I turn to Bella, giving her the most earnest and sincere look of regret possible. "I need to check out what's going on, but I _will have more of that kiss._ Agreed?"

She nods her head, and the disappointment written on her face makes me feel buoyantly hopeful. I need her to understand how fucking badly I want her, every solid inch of her. I have every intention of fulfilling my promise.

I sigh and slip out of my tube, followed by Jasper and Bella. Alice appears to be holding down our tubes while we check things out.

I make my way toward Jessica, accompanied by the background music of Lauren's screams. I'm shocked by her response, because she's a trained ICU nurse; she should know better. She is nothing short of a hysterical, sobbing mess, all hyperbole and unnecessary drama.

As I look down on Stanley, however, I realize that Mallory is right to be concerned; her color is all wrong. She's pale and limp. I can see her torso spasm, similar to dry heaves, except that it doesn't reach her esophageal area. Her body is trying rid itself of all the alcohol she has consumed.

I instantly hop into rescue mode; it's the way my mind has been trained to react. Before I do anything, I tell Jasper to contact 911; getting a rig out here, along the river, isn't going to be an easy task. I ask Bella to hold Jessica's inner tube steady so that she can be easily assessed. There are several other nurses in the vicinity, and I ask them to control Mallory. That's the last headache I need to deal with right now.

_A, Airway… _Her neck is lax, but leaning backwards over the side of the tube with her mouth agape. The airway is clearly open_. _

_B, Breathing… _I lean over to listen for breath sounds. Her breathing is irregular and shallow. Not a positive sign.

_C, Circulation…_ I check her carotid pulse to ensure her heart is beating. It is slow and irregular, but still beating for the moment.

Before I have a chance to do anything else, Jessica's stomach is finally able to engage with her esophagus, and she vomits. Due to her position, she aspirates some of it into her lungs, which means she's breathing in vomit instead of oxygen. As a result, she starts to gasp and choke.

"Fuck! Swan, let's get this tube to the side of the river, now. She aspirated!"

Bella looks me straight in the eye, nodding silently. Suddenly, unexpectedly, we're on. Just like at work. We're in this moment together.

I hear her shout out orders as we tug the tube toward the shore. "Angela! Find out from Lauren how much they've had to drink, and how fast. How long have they been drinking? Let me know what you find out."

I have Jessica's head turned to the side now, so if she throws up again, the likelihood that she aspirates will be minimized. She continues to retch, but so far, no more vomit. She reeks of alcohol.

When we're within a few feet of the shore, I bend over to scoop her into my arms, and Bella assists. We find the flattest ground in the area and lay Jessica down. I reposition her airway, listening carefully amid the noise and confusion surrounding us. We need to ascertain if she is still breathing. If she is, I cannot tell. It's too noisy, and her breathing is too shallow to move her ribcage. I check her pulse quickly; if she has stopped breathing, her heart will stop soon afterward.

"Swan, please grab my pack. Inside, there is a rescue breathing mask. I need it."

While it might sound crazy, I never go anywhere without my breather mask. It's the easiest way to deliver rescue breaths in an emergency without becoming contaminated. Call me crazy, but I absolutely do _not_ want to touch her vomit-laden mouth to deliver rescue breaths.

Bella races back with the mask, and we position ourselves over Stanley.

"Please keep her airway open and secure while I do breaths, then we will switch off as we get tired, okay?"

She doesn't even need to answer; she hops into action, securing the airway for me. This is just one of the many reasons this woman is so smoking hot, but right now I need to focus on the patient.

I take a bandana off of Jessica's head and use it to wipe her mouth free of vomit, then place the mask over her nose and mouth. As I deliver a breath, I look for her chest to rise, ensuring that her airway is open and air is getting into her lungs. If I end up aerating her belly, she'll just vomit again, and this time I will be giving rescue breaths. Clearly, I'm anxious to avoid that scenario.

Jessica doesn't fight the breaths I deliver, another sign that her brain function is depressed.

_She's an ICU nurse, for christ's sake! How did she let herself get so fucked up?_

Jasper is suddenly at our sides. "They're going to try to get a rig over here, but they aren't sure they'll be able to do it. ETA is about ten more minutes."

I lift my head up to answer him, and Bella dives right in to take over the rescue breathing; I don't even need to ask.

"We asked some of the other nurses to question Lauren about how much they've had to drink, and how quickly they drank it. Please go over there and see if they have any information we can give to the medics."

"Absolutely. I'll be right back."

Bella breathes in, preparing to give another breath, and I notice Jessica's body start to lurch. I quickly grab her head and turn it to the side, before Bella has a chance of being hurled on. We turn her onto her side and wipe out her mouth again. I notice that she is covered in goosebumps, and she starts to shake uncontrollably.

Bella screams at the crowd. "Guys! We need jackets, blankets, towels, anything that will help to keep Jessica warm. NOW!"

_Goddamn, Bella in take charge mode is the hottest thing I've ever seen._

"Cullen, I owe you big time for catching that so fast—I'm not really up for being covered in vomit at the moment."

"Oh, I'll force you to pay up later. Have no doubt about that." I enjoy watching her eyes get much larger over that statement.

Before we can say anything more, piles of clothing are suddenly handed to Bella, and we spread them over Jessica. After the second round of vomiting, she starts to mumble. We try to get some answers from her to see how oriented she is to her environment. I do a quick Glasgow Coma Scale assessment.

I shake her shoulders firmly. "Jessica, this is Dr. Cullen. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Nothing.

I give her arm a slight pinch, and state once again. "Please open your eyes, Jessica."

Her lids flutter, but remain closed.

_Shit._

"Do you know where you are?"

The only intelligible response we get out of her is something that sounds like, "Wha...?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

She starts mumbling again, as if she is having a conversation with someone in a foreign language. Her words are all nonsense.

"Has… ativan… hosp… Laur…"

Bella and I look each other in the eyes, across Jessica's stomach.

"Did you hear what I heard?" Bella asks.

"If I'm not mistaken, she used the word 'ativan.'"

"I know! That's exactly what I thought she said. It makes no sense!"

"Jessica—what do you mean, 'ativan'? It is very important for us to know. Did you take ativan today?"

If there is any possibility that Stanley is mixing a benzodiazepene, like ativan or valium, with alcohol, we need to know at once. The two drugs together are a deadly combination—they can depress the brain function so far, you forget to breathe, and, subsequently, die.

Stanley continues to mumble unintelligibly. I do a quick sternal rub, which is a great way to gauge how responsive an individual is. It hurts like the dickens, since your knuckles are grinding as hard as they can into the patient's sternum. If a patient doesn't respond vigorously to such stimulation, it is a serious sign of cognitive depression. Jessica reaches up weakly toward my hands, but that is the best response I can get from her.

Once again, Bella and I look directly at one another, a silent understanding passing between us.

"Would you say a 9 or a 10?"

"Nine."

"Fuck, she's such an idiot!"

The Glasgow Coma Scale is a tool that assigns a score between 3-15, based on how well a patient is able to respond to stimuli. A score between 3-8 implies that a patient is in a coma.

Jessica Stanley is perilously close to an 8.

Just then, the medics arrive. I give them a quick overview of what we've accomplished.

"The patient became unconscious approximately 15 minutes ago. We brought her to shore, and assessed her respirations. They were shallow and irregular. She had emesis x2, and aspirated during the first incident. Her heart rate was slow, but she was never without a pulse. We assisted with her breathing until her second emesis. She became slightly more responsive after the second bout. We have been unable to ascertain the amount of alcohol she ingested, nor how long she has been drinking. She mumbled the word 'ativan,' but we have no idea if she has taken any or not. Her Glasgow score was 9."

One medic is trying to establish IV access while I give report to the other. As I'm speaking, the nurses gather around the other medic and Jessica. A police officer at the scene is trying to wrangle them away from the patient. Raised voices break into our report.

_"She needs an IV in her! Just give her some 'lytes and she'll be fine!"_

_"Quit fucking around with the IV start—just get her to the hospital. Don't you know what the word STAT means?"_

_"Do you even know how to put in an IV? Why is it taking so long?"_

_"Do you need help?"_

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. Never get on the wrong side of a drunk nurse—it's just plain scary.

The police officer gives the women a final warning. "Ladies, back the hell off, or you'll all be arrested. Do I make myself clear?"

Bella runs over to the group of nurses to intervene.

"Jesus, you guys! You're nothing but a bunch of back seat drivers! Let them do their work! Jessica is going to be just fine."

The officer gives Bella a grateful nod. "She's right, people. Why don't you all go back down to the river. That's the best way you can be of use to your friend."

He turns and asks Bella some questions. I overhear him ask her to accompany Stanley to the hospital.

_Not on my watch, buddy. I have a smoldering hot kiss I need to return to, sooner rather than later._

I stride over to where they're standing. "Actually, I think Lauren Mallory should be with Jessica. They've been drinking together all morning, and she has the best background and history information to give the docs. It makes perfect sense for her to be in attendance."

_Signed. Sealed. Delivered, Mallory._

To reinforce my intentions, I put my arm around Bella's shoulder, and begin to escort her over to our belongings.

"Cullen, that was very skillful of you, just now," she says with a huge smile on her face.

I put my hands on either shoulder, turning her to look directly into my eyes. "Did I, or did I not, mention something about collecting on a kiss and promise to see some nipple piercings?"

"Do you actually believe I would let you get away without finishing what you started? Because if you do, I think you need to wear the Party Hat for a lot longer."

I can feel her breath on my face, she's so close. I want nothing more than to slam her into the tree behind us and fuck her senseless in every imaginable position. I'm trying to explain to the permanent horndog holed up inside my brain that you don't go straight from redhot kisses to fucking senseless against a tree; that's not how you work your lady into a frenzy. It is at this moment my cock chooses to join the argument, and it is in complete agreement with my brain's horndog center. Shit, it's two against one. Majority rules.

Before I can finish another thought, Bella's lips cover my own. End of conversation. I've only kissed her once, but her lips feel so familiar. It's like listening to _Green Eggs and Ham_ as an adult—you still know all the words from when you were a child, and they come flooding back to you the minute you dive in anew. It's that perfect blend of familiar and new. I know instinctively the only reason I feel this way is because it's Bella. To experience any other kiss at this point would be ludicrous. I want these lips. Always. I know that just as certain as I know my own name.

_"But I'm still drunk, and I can't go to the hospital! It needs to be Bella Swan! She's always in charge! Let her do it. I can't!"_

Once again, Lauren Mallory's whines have interrupted my date with destiny—namely, Bella's lips. That is fucking enough for one day. Cockblock me once, shame on me. Cockblock me twice, shame on _you_.

I pull back from Bella and quickly mutter to her, "This fucking ends _now._ I promise I will get rid of her. You keep my favorite pair of lips right where they are, then we will get back to business." She smiles widely at my comment, which only bolsters my confidence.

I walk over to the medic I gave report to earlier. We give each other a nod.

"Hey, I need you to do a big favor for me."

He raises his eyebrow.

"Okay, you know the nurse who was working on the patient with me?" I motion with my head in Bella's direction.

"Dude, I'm not going to forget her any time soon. Or that bikini."

I clench my fist at his comment, but realize that sometimes you have to give up the battle in order to win the war.

"Ah, yeah. So let me ask you this: If you had the chance to spend 24 hours with that bikini, you'd go for it, right?"

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, indicating it is a given.

"Well, I seem to have an obstacle in my way." Without naming Lauren's name, I motion with my head in her direction. "She's the one you need at the hospital, I swear. She's the patient's best friend, and they've been drinking all morning. Can you please see to it that she is the one who accompanies the patient to the hospital?"

"Absolutely."

We shake on it. "Thanks, man."

"What are you waiting for? Get over there before she gets away!"

I smile and do exactly as he says.

**~xXx~**

By the time we reach the end of our river run, we've nearly forgotten about the morning's mishaps with Jessica Stanley. She'll wake up with one hell of a hangover, but she'll be fine. I actually feel like I need to thank her, because she single handedly took herself AND Lauren Mallory out of the picture. Fucking brilliant, if you ask me.

With the realization that we need to pace ourselves a little bit in the hot sun and cool water, we keep our buzz on an even, happy keel. Bella comes up with a grand scheme to get her own beverage from the cooler, but it involves crawling over to my tube on all fours, then reaching over to remove said beverage. In the meantime, Bella's ass is right in front of my face, and it takes all my willpower to keep from ripping her bikini bottoms off and diving straight into her pussy. I opt for the more appropriate solution and run my hands over her round little ass. A man can only handle so much teasing, after all.

Bella lets out a wonderful little squeak, and in the flash of an eye, turns around and falls into my lap. Straddling me. As in, her scantily clad pussy is just two thin layers of material away from my positively delighted dick. He hasn't been this happy in a long time.

I look up from my lap into Bella's eyes to apologize for my body's enthusiasm regarding our genital proximity, but it is readily apparent that no apology is needed. A very self-satisfied smile is plastered on her face. The little vixen decides now is the perfect time to start gyrating slowly over my cock. Thank god my hands are empty, because I need them on her hips immediately to increase the friction. How does Bella respond to all this? She fucking puts her hands on my shoulders, which helps to increase the friction even more. We're locked on each other, grinding away, when the tubes suddenly come to a stop.

Why is destiny determined to screw with my mojo? Every time I'm just getting warmed up with Bella, something intervenes! I refuse to take this as a sign from the universe that I don't belong with Bella. I think I'm going to rationalize that it is simply the universe's way of telling me that good things come to those who wait, and I can certainly wait. At least a little bit longer.

Alice decides she needs to take some action to move our party along. "Let's return the tubes then head over to the hotel to change."

Bella leans over and whispers in my ear, "If you hurry, we can start dancing sooner rather than later."

That's all the prodding I need. With a speed I didn't know I was capable of attaining, I'm suddenly rushing the group, yanking the four inner tubes behind me.

"Bella, what in god's name did you do to the man? He's like Northstar!"

Bella and Alice burst out in giggles over Jasper's cultural reference, but nothing is going to stop me from those pierced nipples. I am a determined man.

"Jasper, only you could bring out comicgeek knowledge after a day of partying on the river. Do _you_ need the Party Hat?"

"Fuck you, Swan. Just wait, some day my encyclopedic memory for comic book trivia will win a game show, and I will be rich. Have no fear that I will remind you of this. Frequently. Every time you have to go in to work, while I sit on the front porch sipping mint juleps."

Bella takes off running, turning around to shout at Jasper, "Only a murse would admit to drinking mint juleps!"

He takes off and captures her, giving her a good, hard noogie on the head. "Shut it, Swan! Take it back!"

In between bursts of giggles, Bella squeaks out, "NEVER!"

When Alice and I catch up with them, Bella shouts out a loud plea, "Edward! Help! Save me!"

I grab my iPhone from my pocket and open the light saber app. I slash it around like I'm brandishing the real thing, and it makes the classic light saber noise. Jasper finds himself backed against the trunk of my car, scared to his core by my dangerous weapon. He sighs and gives Bella up almost instantly. She runs up to me, flinging her arms around her neck.

"See? You are totally my knight in shining armor!"

I whisper into her ear, "Always."

We pack our gear into the Volvo and head over to the hotel. En route, Alice politely reminds me that I lost the bet, so the room is on me tonight.

"My dear Ms. Brandon, I never renege on a deal. Fair is fair, and I lost."

"You know what, Bella? This Dr. Cullen guy is all right. I think you need to hang on to him."

Bella's face flashes scarlet and she quickly turns her face to look out the window. I try to change the topic of conversation so that she feels more comfortable.

"Where are we staying tonight, Alice? The Icicle Inn?"

"Yep, that's the one. Do you want the map?"

"Sure." I grab the map and hand it to Bella. "Would you mind being the navigator, Swan?"

She looks at me bashfully, and carefully takes the map from my hands. She mouths an _I'm sorry_ to me, and I want to set her straight right away. _It's fine! _I hope she believes me.

I walk up to the registration desk, handing them our reservation information. The clerk looks at me, and back at the reservation several times. "Um, hang on a second, okay?" I nod at her. She returns moments later with her manager.

"Yes, good evening, Mr. Brandon."

"Ah, no, actually, I'm Mr. Cullen. _Ms_. Brandon is in the car."

"Oh, my apologies, sir. It appears that the room type you reserved has been inadvertently given to another couple. I'm so sorry."

"Huh. No big deal, you can just give us another one. There are four in our party."

"Well, that's the problem, you see. Our hotel is booked for the night, and the room assigned to you only sleeps two."

Now I'm not feeling as generous as I was 15 seconds ago.

"You realize that is completely unacceptable, yes? We have a reservation. You need to find a solution that involves me and all the members of my party in a room this evening. I'd hate to have to call Best Western corporate to explain the situation to them."

"Very good, Mr. Cullen, I'll see what I can do."

"Yes, you will. Should I wait right here for you?"

"Of course, that will be fine."

I cross my arms and lean against the counter, giving my best _Don't Fuck With Cullen _look. I check my watch every minute or so, just to keep the pressure on.

After ten minutes, I heave an exasperated sigh.

_In a perfect world I could have been fucking Bella Swan by now, but I'm surrounded by imbeciles determined to thwart my every attempt!_

The manager returns with a sly grin on his face, as if he is the fucking Cheshire Cat.

_Bring it, dude._

I don't even say anything, I just give him a look.

"Mr. Cullen, I have what appears to be an excellent solution! We have one suite open for you, so you will have enough rooms for the evening!"

"That is an excellent solution. Thank you for your efforts."

When I return to the car with two sets of keys, I get three confused looks from my passengers.

"I only reserved one room, Edward!"

"Well, due to a certain manager's SNAFU, they gave us a room with only one bed. I challenged him to find a solution for me, and the solution happened to be a suite."

I hear three very happy individuals cheering my efforts.

"To make it fair, I'm going to hide the room numbers—Alice, Bella, I want both of you to remove a key card from my hand to determine who gets the suite."

I turn my back to them and shuffle the cards, then present them for selection.

"Go ahead, Alice. I'll take the one you don't pick."

"Are you sure?"

"It's a hotel room. It's no big."

Alice hastily snatches a key card. She has the hotel room, leaving us with the suite.

_With all the reprehensibly dirty ideas floating around in my head, the suite will be just what the doctor ordered. Literally._

Bellas eyes go wide when I show her our key. "Are you sure you're okay with that, Cullen? I know we always said that the four of us could share a room."

Alice whacks Bella on her shoulder at the same moment Jasper pipes in, "As if I want you two intruding on my private sexytimes with my lady."

For the sake of discretion, I half whisper to her, "Swan, I'm not even going to comment on your question. The answer should be plainly obvious."

"Well, then, get ready to go! Let's move, people!" For a little thing, Alice certainly has no qualms with taking command.

"Yes, ma'am!" I say, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

As we open the door to our room, Bella walks in first and stops cold. Expecting her to continue moving, I smash into the back of her, and we both fall to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Bella, I didn't mean…"

I look up to take in the scene that caused Bella to stop: _We have the Honeymoon Suite._

I hear Bella emit a slight gasp, and then turn her head to face me.

"Edward, it's—"

"Yeah, I know."

Our eyes are locked, waiting for the other person to speak first. While the pause should be filled with an awkward silence, it isn't. If I'm not mistaken, we are both displaying a look of _wonder_—we're actually alone, together, in a room, and no one around for miles to cockblock us. A few seconds later, we both start cracking up at the same time.

"As much as I would absolutely love to jump your bones this very minute, I know Alice and Jasper are waiting for us. If I promise to molest you later, is that all right?"

After she spills out the words that are music to my ears, she bites her bottom lip, and I'm gone. Suddenly, Bella is pinned against the back of the door and I'm kissing her with a scary level of intensity, attempting to release some of the day's pent up horniness. She slides her hands into my back pockets and forcefully pulls my hard cock closer to her. She mewls out a little moan and it is literally all I can do to keep from fucking her right here and now. I break from the kiss to whisper into her beautiful ear.

"Fuuuuuck, Bella. When you bite your lip like that, it's so damn sexy! I want you so badly, I don't know if I can wait. Between your bikini, the pierced nipples, that incredible thing on the inner tube, I'm dying here!"

"I said this once to Alice, and now I'm going to tell you, so you truly understand my meaning. I want you, Edward Cullen, _more than I've ever wanted anything in my life_. I also know that if Alice and Jasper show up at the bar alone, the gossip will spread and spill to all the other nurses, and it will eventually get back to your colleagues and your father. I can't have your dad's embarrassment on my conscience, Cullen, I just can't. So let's both take a deep breath, calm ourselves with the promise of epic naughtiness later, and get ready for the bar."

The minute she utters the words, I know she's right, of course. I'm tired of being good, and doing what's right. I want to fuck Bella Swan, _now_. I don't want to wait a few hours. When my father's face pops into my head, however, I know that I can't do anything to create an embarrassment for him, especially if my goal is to follow in his footsteps. I lean my forehead against Bella's, then give her a long, chaste kiss to signal my acceptance. She leans her head back slightly and lifts her hands to my cheeks with such a look of understanding, it makes my heart clench.

_She gets it, and I'm damned lucky she does._

I step back and grab her hand, leading her over to our bags. "Do you want to hop in the shower first?"

"Yes, I'd love to wash the river water away."

"I'll hop in after you're done, okay?"

She nods quickly, while she is gathering her things. The minute she shuts the door, I will myself not to think about the fact that Bella is in the same room as I am, naked in the shower, and I've got the hardest dick in the world to prove it. I'm old enough and responsible enough to know that I need to wait, but shit, it isn't easy. There's no way my cock isn't going to be hard all night, especially if I get to watch Bella dance.

_Just keep repeating, "epic naughtiness later…epic naughtiness later..."_

**END NOTE: Before you go all rageball on me for ending things here, please be aware that Chapter 10 will be the epic home run you've all been waiting for. Does that make you feel a little bit better? I hope so.**

**One of my one-shots, "Love Among the Microbes," has been nominated for a Gigglesnort Award. If you feel so inclined, you can vote for it between May 20-June 4****th**** here (just remember to remove the spaces in the URL first): **

h t t p : // gigglesnortawards . mmmboptastic . com / nominations . php


	11. I'm King of The World

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Just watched **_**Pirate Radio**_**, featuring Tom Sturridge, and ladies, I'm NGL—if I died in the middle of an RPattz/TomStu sammy, I'd be a very happy little girl. UNG.**

**Things I own: The DVD of **_**Titanic**_**, because sometimes you just need Kate, and you need Leo, and you need them right now.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who has encouraged me time and again to remember my New Year's resolution. ILY, bb.**

**Thank you to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading and assuring me that Edward did indeed have his mojo.**

**CHAPTER TEN: I'M KING OF THE WORLD**

The four of us walk over to the Leavenworth Beer Garden from our hotel so that no one needs to worry about being a Designated Driver tonight. We all want to let loose and enjoy ourselves.

There is a palpable energy between Bella and me, and we keep stealing glances at each other along the way. On several occasions, I fight the urge to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and run back to our suite. If I don't get some relief soon, I will die a martyr, with the bluest balls ever seen. I'm bound to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records at this rate. This was not one of my life's goals. Ever.

During one of my casual glances at Bella, I take in what she's wearing. Her micro-bikini is history, for which I'm both grateful and hugely disappointed. If she happened to be wearing it right now, she would most definitely be over my shoulder and on her way back to the suite. She's changed into a navy blue dress, which is all crinkled; I'm pretty sure it is supposed to look like that. She probably thinks the texture hides her nipple piercings, but believe me, it doesn't. Not even fucking close. I'm so obsessed with seeing them that I'm probably eyeing her rack more than is socially acceptable, but that's a risk you take when you flaunt your pierced nipples in front of horny Pediatric ICU Fellows. Namely, _this_ horny Pediatric ICU Fellow.

_Fuck, this is not helping the blue ball situation at all._

I've also noticed that her hair is down, long and wavy along her back. She never wears it like this at work, and it is a sight to behold. It's like she's silently screaming at me to run my fingers through her hair. She's one of the few women I've ever known who needs absolutely nothing to improve upon her natural beauty. Her hair looks best long and unadorned. Her brown eyes are so big and beautiful they need no make-up. Her lips are a beautiful shade of pink, in no need of embellishment. She smells amazing; every time she turns her head, a wave of her scent wafts through the air and knocks me out all over again. It's remarkable that this woman, freshly showered and dressed in under 15 minutes, can be more beautiful in this moment than someone else who took three hours to get ready.

She must be able to sense that I'm staring at her, because she looks over and gives me a coy glance through her lashes then bites the side of her bottom lip.

_Concentration officially destroyed._

I grab her hand and yank her into me, then pull her roughly to my lips. My need for this woman is overpowering and all-consuming. My dick simply doesn't understand the concept of having to wait for the right time to be formally introduced to Swan.

The moment our lips collide, it's like a nuclear reaction, and a heady moan slips out from both of us. We're soldered together in the middle of the sidewalk, people walking around us. Someone clearing their throat in my ear gets my attention. Barely. It's like I'm being awakened by a very annoying alarm in the middle of a pleasant dream.

"Dude, remember the concept of going to the bar first?" Jasper semi whispers to me.

_Fuck. Yes, I do. I think._

Bella makes a whiney "Nooooo!" as she's pulled away from me by Alice.

I lean over and whisper, "Remember, these are all just appetizers. Sometimes, you eat so many appetizers you aren't hunger for the entrée. Trust me, you want to save room for the entrée." I finish with a small nip to her earlobe, and she shivers.

_Good response._

Bella grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. She looks up at me, smiles, and I suddenly understand the scene in _Titanic_ where Leo DeCaprio shouts out, "I'm king of the world!" When you have the woman you've desired for years holding your hand, looking at you with a smile, and the prospect of red-hot sex to come, you fucking own the world, and in that moment, there is nothing—_nothing_—that can take your feeling of omnipotence away.

The minute we arrive on scene at the beer garden, we see that our PICU nurses make up half of the customers on the outdoor patio. There is music playing and they appear to be having a wonderful time, which, when roughly translated, means they're all quite toasted.

_Excellent. Fewer people to notice me pawing at Swan._

Jasper and I grab a few pitchers from the bar and bring them back to the long table filled with nurses. I see that Bella has saved a space for me next to her, and it fills me with a sense of pride and awe.

_Of all the guys she could save a seat for, I'm the one who gets it. Fucking lucky bastard._

"You know, we haven't eaten all day, we should really get something in our stomachs before we start slamming beers."

"Not a bad idea, Swan, but that will hinder my plan to get you drunk and take advantage of you."

Her eyes widen for a minute, but underneath the table, she puts her hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze.

She leans over and whispers, "I thought I said that _I_ would be molesting _you_."

"We can form a mutual grope society. I'm good with that."

"I'm sure you are, doctor."

_Fuck. I'm never going to last through this night._

Exactly one pizza and three pitchers later, Alice announces to our foursome, "Bella, it's time for KFM."

KFM stands for Kill, Fuck, or Marry. Apparently, it is Alice's favorite game. She comes up with the names of three medical professionals, and we all have to determine which of the three we would kill, which one we would fuck, or which one we would marry.

The look on Bella's face is priceless. It's a combination of "stink eye" and "I need to hurl."

"Aw, no, Alice, not tonight. You're just gonna stick me with choices that will result in my needing to bleach my brain afterwards."

"OK, OK, I have a great one. Dr. Mooseknuckle, Dr. Hunchback, or Dr. Napoleon."

"Wait a second here, I'm at a distinct disadvantage! I have no idea who these people are!"

"Cullen, you don't count. These are guys. We'll do a girl version for you and Jasper next."

"Okay, then, I'm going to use this as a segue to take a bathroom break."

Alice gives me a tense little glare. "It's no fun to see Bella's reactions if there aren't casual observers."

"Well, Jasper is here."

Jasper looks at me, grinning and shaking his head. "Naw, I think it's time for me to take a bathroom break, too."

"You guys are acting like little first grade girls, you know!"

"Alice, you know these are always about male doctors. As much as I love you—which is, admittedly, more than life itself—there is no real fun for me in participating in this game. Well, aside from the fact that watching Bella's reactions is amusing."

Alice crosses her arms while her jaw gapes open in shock. "You are SO not getting any tonight, Jasper Whitlock!"

"Aw baby, don't be all mad! I just need to pee my face off. I'll be right back."

Her face melts into a satisfied grin. "Like I could turn you away if I wanted to—"

Bella plugs her ears and starts singing "Lalalalala" out loud. "TMI, Alice—we've been through this before!"

I look at Jasper, who shrugs his shoulder, and we head off to the bathroom.

I grab the only available stall and shut the door behind me, pulling out my phone. I type in a text to Bella.

_**I want u so fckin bad! Need to be IN U STAT!**_

_U r a fckin tease, Cullen! Like I don't wanna see ur hard cock?_

_**Jesus, Swan! U can't say stuff like that!**_

_Dude, u strted it!_

_**OK, bb. I wanna lick ur tits**_

_*groan*_

_**Then I wanna twist ur nips**_

_STOP!_

_**Lift ur dress, feel ur pussy**_

_FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY STOP!_

_**Fck u against the wall**_

_I don't hear u_

_**From behind**_

_Ur sleeping alone 2nite!_

_**Hear u cum**_

_In ur dreamz!_

_**Watch ur face **_

_Get the fuck out here NOW!_

Mission fucking accomplished. Thank you to whomever invented texting. And more importantly, sexting!

I quickly finish my business then make my way back to the table. What I discover when I get there leaves me motionless: Bella Swan is dancing like she's a fucking succubus. I'm certain that every XY chromosome in the nearest mile is staring at her, too.

_Sorry, dudes, she only dances like this for ME._

I amble over to her, practically leaving a trail of drool in my wake. She looks me straight in the eye the entire time, swaying her hips, sultry smile on her face. She crooks her finger at me, beckoning at me to come closer.

I follow her command, and get as close as I possibly can while still wearing clothes. She grabs my hands, and slides them down her sides, placing them on her ass. I realize at once that there is no elastic band underneath her dress.

_Wait, what? SHE'S commando? In the middle of a bar? Wearing a dress?_

I feel my brain start to implode; I pull away to look at her face, and she's wearing a sly grin and nodding her head. She suddenly slaps my hands and whispers in my ear, "Payback is a bitch," then saunters back to our table.

_Well, fuck me, she can tease with the best of them!_

With the four of us returned to the table, Alice flips back into serious business mode again. "Okay, I'm going to give you really good KFM choices so you can't complain. How about Dr. Green-Eyed Monster, Dr. Delicious, and Jasper."

Bella's eyes go wide then she shifts to a glare aimed at Alice. "NO! Those are totally unfair!"

Alice pretends to act innocent. "Why? They're all hot, Bella!"

Huh. This is getting to be amusing. I see what Jasper means. This is like a spectator sport.

Bella's face is beet red. "Because Dr. Delicious is old enough to be my father, Dr. Green-Eyed Monster is off limits, and Jasper is like thinking about fucking my brother. If I had a brother. Gross. I can't possibly choose amongst them."

Jasper pipes up, "Yeah, and then there's the whole parka thing. That's going to be a deal breaker right there, Alice."

"Whitlock, if you want your junk to remain in one piece, you will shut your trap starting right NOW!" Bella threatens.

Given his present expression, it doesn't look like Jasper wants his junk in pieces.

Bella and Alice go back and forth, trading barbs, when it becomes clear Alice won't be the one to back down, Bella almost blurts out the answer.

"Okay. Kill Jasper, Fuck Dr. Green-Eyed Monster, and Marry Dr. Delicious."

"What the hell, Bella? Why would you choose that way?"

"Look, I played the game, I don't expect to have to defend my choices."

"Oh no, honey, you know that isn't part of the process. You have to explain your logic."

"Fuck, all right. Kill Jasper because you love him and made me play the game, so it is purely a revenge killing. Fuck Green-Eyed Monster, because you know why. And Marry Delicious, because he's very handsome, he's way older, and I would be a trophy wife."

The scowl on Bella's face is fierce; it reminds me that I never want to be on her bad side.

I'm confused about her answer, so I ask for clarification. "Who the hell is the Green-Eyed Monster? And what do you mean about wearing a parka? Is that some kind of fetish you have, Swan?"

Jasper snorts and spits out his beer.

"Umm, never mind, Edward."

"Oh, but I _do_ mind, you see. Come on, Swan, spill the beans."

She remains the deepest scarlet color I've ever seen, and she is shaking her head vehemently.

"Nope. Not happening. Ever."

Jasper and Alice are crying, they're laughing so hard, and Alice complains that she wet herself.

"No way, Swan! We are _not_ leaving this bar until you tell me what it means. You _know_ how persistent I can be."

"I'm-not-telling," she says, poking her finger into my chest with each syllable she speaks.

"I bet Alice and Jasper would be more than happy to tell me."

"You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Try me."

She shoots them both the biggest stink eye in the world. She crosses her arms and looks at me, eyebrow raised. I cross my arms and look at her. We are at an impasse.

Alice clears her throat, and gently puts her hand on Bella's forearm. "Bells, this is probably something that could be resolved over some Patron. Know what I mean?"

Bella quickly turns her head towards Alice. "What?"

Alice simply nods and shrugs her shoulders. Bella groans, clutching her stomach. She weakly whispers out, "Really?"

"He's going to find out one way or another, don't you think you should be the one to tell him?"

I'm watching this unfold in front of me, and it's beginning to freak me out a little bit. I can't imagine what has made the unflappable Bella Swan so sickened. We were playing a light and happy bar game, and it dissolves into this?

_Shit, I hope this isn't about the blog. I'm so not ready to come clean with that one yet._

Her loud sigh interrupts my thoughts. "Jasper, will you do the honors and procure the Patron, please?"

"How many?"

"Four."

He stands up, and bows deeply. "As you wish, princess. As you wish."

Shortly afterward, there are four shot glasses sitting in front of us, and Alice and Jasper quietly make their way to the dance floor, giving Bella and I some much needed space.

"So, when are you going to tell me about the Green-Eyed Monster and parkas."

"Um, never. Unless you get yourself so drunk that you won't remember my telling you."

"No, sorry, that excuse doesn't work. But let's get these shots out of the way, hmm?"

We both grab a shot and down it. Bella turns hers upside down, so I follow suit.

"It's just really embarrassing and inappropriate. I don't want you to think I'm completely unprofessional."

"Why would I think that about you? You happen to be one of the most professional, personable nurses in the PICU."

Bella goes for her second shot, and I grab mine, too. Again, we turn them upside down.

"Thank you, Edward. I do appreciate that. What I'm about to tell you is very, very bad. And pervy."

"How is pervy a bad thing?"

"You'll understand better when I tell you."

"All right then, let's have it—who in the hell are Dr. Delicious and Dr. Green-Eyed Monster, and what is this about your sex-in-a-jacket fetish?"

Bella grumbles, looking incredibly uncomfortable. She shakes her head while covering her eyes, and mumbles, "Dr. Delicious happens to be the nickname for your father. And _you_ are the Green-Eyed Monster."

_Huh? _

"Why am I the Green-Eyed Monster? I'm not the jealous type."

She giggles at my response.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh my god, did you forget Dr. Titmouse? Or Red from Starbucks? As much as I loved your coming to my emotional rescue, Edward, there might have been a little bit of territorial display going on there."

"That had nothing to do with territoriality."

"Oh really? Anyhow, thank you for skimming over the fact that your father was part of that equation—I don't even want to go there. And dude, seriously? What color are your eyes?"

"Oh, well, yeah, they are green. I would hope I'm not a monster, right? Do I seem like that bad a guy? I always try to be pretty nice to the nurses and residents."

I hear Bella mumble something that sounds like _motherfucking Patron truth serum_.

"Ah, monster doesn't refer to your temperament. It refers to a certain part of your anatomy."

I pause for a moment. _My anatomy?_ _OH! My genital anatomy! _

"I don't understand; no one has ever seen me!"

"Remember that birthday gift I gave you earlier? Believe me, we've all seen you."

"You guys seriously notice that kind of stuff?"

"Edward, it's a little hard not to. Have you failed to notice all the attention you get from Jessica and Lauren and their counterparts?"

"Well, I guess it's good to be known for something positive. If my nickname was the Green-Eyed Pea, that might be a little embarrassing."

"You are in no danger of being a pea, unless you decide to alter your anatomy."

My hands instinctively go to cover my crotch. Then I remember Jasper's comment about the parka fetish.

"What does wearing a parka have to do with anything? Do you really have a jacket fetish that I don't know about?"

Bella once again blushes profusely, and I can't imagine why this is so embarrassing for her.

"The parka I was referring to do has nothing to do with clothing."

_What the hell does that mean?_

"Then I don't get it."

"Please don't make me say it, Edward. _Please!_"

I up the ante by leaning over and taking her earlobe into my mouth. Her breath hitches and a smile to myself.

"Sorry, Swan. I need to know."

"Okay, fine. We need another shot before I can divulge this. You need two."

"If the price of learning about your parka fetish is two shots of Patron, so be it."

I go to the bar to get more shots and get back to the table as quickly as possible.

We slug our shots, and I watch her draw a deep breath. "Parka is another word for foreskin. I happen to have a thing for uncut cocks."

Bella Swan is blushing the most beautiful shade of red I've ever seen, and trying to hide her face. I wish I had a picture of it, because I want to remember this moment forever.

"You've got to be shitting me."

She huffs at me, indignant. "I am most definitely not shitting you! I wouldn't kid about something like that. I take my dick very seriously."

"So, you chose me to fuck instead of marry because you'd want to be able to marry someone who's uncut?"

"Yeah, if I'm ever going to get married, I'm sorry, the guy has to have a parka. I'm being completely honest here."

"Bella, you are aware that my father is British, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Umm, well, when I was born, my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to look like my dad, avoiding any anatomical questions."

She looks at me, confused. "Edward, what the fuck are you trying to tell me?"

"British guys, in general, are uncut."

"Oh… so, you're…OHHHH!" I see the light go off in her head.

"_Exactly_."

She swallows hard. "Edward, I don't think you should have told me that."

"Why not?"

"Because I really, really need to fuck you. _Now._"

"Well, that's perfect, because I really, really want to fuck you."

Our eyes are locked on one another, both trying to figure out how the hell to get back to the suite without arousing suspicion.

"Okay, I'm going to the bathroom, and you're going to settle our tab. I'm going to casually slip outside, you're going to casually slip outside, and then we are going to fucking _run_ back to the hotel. Are you with me?"

"Absofuckinglutely!"

"OK. 1-2-3, _GO!_"

I watch as Bella's ass wiggles its way to the bathroom. When she disappears, I stand up and head for the bar. On the way, I make sure to capture Jasper's attention, so he knows we're leaving. Without waiting to see what the bill is, I hand the bartender $100 and exit the bar. As I turn the corner, I see Bella waiting for me; her eyes are wild, and she has the most adorable, silly grin plastering her face. She waves her hand at me, encouraging me to hurry. When I reach her, she squeals, and we take off running, just like we planned.

**END NOTE: No, I am not deliberately cockbocking, dear readers, I promise. Chapters 10 and 11 will be posted simultaneously. For story flow, however, it made more sense to have them in separate chapters. **

**Bella is (briefly) wearing Banana Republic's petite silk crinkle dress. A picture of it can be found on my Live Journal page: ****.com**** Please be aware that there are some NSFW things posted on my LJ page, too. You have been warned!**


	12. The GreenEyed Monster Unveiled

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Why Chapter 11? Here's why:**

**Nigel Tufnel**: The numbers all go to eleven. Look, right across the board, eleven, eleven, eleven and...

**Marty DiBergi**: Oh, I see. And most amps go up to ten?

**Nigel Tufnel**: Exactly.

**Marty DiBergi**: Does that mean it's louder? Is it any louder?

**Nigel Tufnel**: Well, it's one louder, isn't it? It's not ten. You see, most blokes, you know, will be playing at ten. You're on ten here, all the way up, all the way up, all the way up, you're on ten on your guitar. Where can you go from there? Where?

**Marty DiBergi**: I don't know.

**Nigel Tufnel**: Nowhere. Exactly. What we do is, if we need that extra push over the cliff, you know what we do?

**Marty DiBergi**: Put it up to eleven.

**Nigel Tufnel**: Eleven. Exactly. One louder.

**Marty DiBergi**: Why don't you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?

**Nigel Tufnel**: [_pause_] These go to eleven.

**Things I own: The DVD of _This is Spinal Tap_, which still makes me giggle uncontrollably. Every time, guaranteed.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. _This is Spinal Tap_ belongs to Rob Reiner.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX. I can't say thank you too frequently. You are so busy with life, but you still take time out to edit my nonsense. I nom your face. Big time.**

**Thanks to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading; I genuinely appreciate your second set of eyes.**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER UNVEILED**

When we get into the elevator at the hotel, Bella grabs the v-neck of my shirt and pulls me to her mouth. I want to pinch myself to make sure this isn't simply the best dream I've ever had. Really, I've wanted this woman so badly, for so long, and here she is, literally ravaging _me _in the elevator.

_Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good._

Our kiss has all the passion and intensity it had earlier in the day, but it also has a new sense of urgency. The hours of teasing have taken their toll on both of us; this has been the longest foreplay session ever. I only hope I can slow things down enough for us to be able to enjoy coming together at last; the last thing I want is to finish before I've started.

While I'm still focused on the kiss and worrying about premature ejaculation, Bella has advanced our agenda. She's been rubbing my chest, periodically tweaking my nipples, when I suddenly feel her hand rubbing over my cock. She gives me a hard squeeze, and I let out a moan from deep within. It's a sound I've never made before, but clearly, this woman causes me to act completely out of my element.

I say the first thing that comes to mind, my filter long gone. "I can't wait to fuck you, Bella Swan."

Being the epic tease that she is, Bella whispers back, "I can't wait to fuck you, Dr. Green-Eyed Monster."

If she had any idea how aroused take-charge Bella makes me, she would avoid saying such things. I'm so hard and ready, I feel like I'm 14 again. I have absolutely no control over my cock at the moment.

The minute the elevator door opens, I grab Bella's hand and essentially drag her down the hall to our door. I fumble with the key card, because I've been drinking, I'm wound up, and, to be honest, a little nervous. The last thing I want is for this to be a one-night stand; that would kill me. I need to make this count—I need to fuck her so soundly that she never wants to look at anyone else again, man or woman.

As I attempt to unlock the door, Bella keeps goosing my ass.

"Not helping, Bella. If you want the parka to come out to play, I need to be able to open up the door."

She stops long enough for me to steady myself and slide the key in the slot. The word slot in my head makes me instantly think of her slot, and I start to imagine what her pussy will look like. I've dreamed of it for so long. Does she wax? What does her clit look like when she's ready to come? Are her lips big or small? Goddamn, I can't wait to discover what it takes to make her scream my name. The click of the lock opening brings me back into the moment.

"And now, Nurse Swan, let's get this show on the road."

Bella resolutely shuts the door behind her, and I find myself shoved up against it. Her hands are instantly on my fly, and she pops the top button open easily, while the others follow suit as she pulls them apart. She falls to her knees, pulling my jeans down to my ankles.

She looks up at me, grinning wickedly. "I believe you said some bullshit line earlier about 'sometimes' going commando, Edward? I rest my case here—commando is _totally_ your norm!"

My dick is hard and thick, and Bella is fixated on it. She wiggles her fingers near it, as if she's trying to gauge how to approach it—suck it? Stroke it? I'm so erect that the head slid out of the foreskin. She groans loudly, and I can only hope that is a positive response to my cock. Jesus, I hope I meet her expectations.

Before I have a chance to finish that thought, Bella wraps her hand around my shaft, and gently puts my cock in her mouth. On instinct, my hands are immediately in her hair, following her head as she moves me deeper into her throat. I'm not fucking her mouth, just slowly going along with her motions. I've never before been with a woman who really knew how to handle a foreskin properly, and the fact that it is Bella handling my erection with such skill is enough to make me come on the spot. I have no intention of doing that, of course, but I'm experiencing the ultimate sexual experience, right here, right now. It's not every day the most incredible woman in the world has your cock in her mouth; I want to savor every second and commit it to memory.

"Edward, your cock is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I think I want to sit and worship it for a minute."

My voice comes out a little more husky and strained than I intend. "While I'm all for cock worship, you don't necessarily have to pause what you're doing. You can go ahead and worship it up close."

"You might get tired of me sucking you off 24 hours a day. I'm just saying…"

_Is she fucking kidding me?_

"Swan, I could never get enough of your lips wrapped around my cock as it slides in and out of your hot little mouth. If you're up for 24 hours of blow jobs a day, I'm game."

She looks up at me and bites her bottom lip while continuing to stroke me up and down. I just shake my head silently, wondering how I ended up luring this beautiful woman into my own personal sex cave, otherwise known as the Honeymoon suite.

It is hard to focus on anything other than the incredible sensation of her hand on my dick, but then I remember that this isn't about me—it's about her. There is a huge discrepancy in the amount of clothing I'm wearing versus the amount Bella is wearing, and I need to correct this egregious error.

"Stand up," I command.

Surprised, she does as I ask.

"I need to see you. I've waited so long, Bella. _Please_. It's something I've dreamed about since I was in medical school, so I think it is about time that I did something about it."

"You wanted to fuck me when you were in medical school? I didn't even know you then! At least not formally."

"You didn't know who I was, but I knew who you were. Why do you think I was so interested in being a PICU Fellow?"

"Oh, believe me, Edward. I knew who you were. You can't seriously say you're a PICU Fellow because of me."

"I certainly can say that, and I will say that. You were at least 50% of my decision."

"Really? I didn't even think you remembered who I was."

"I think we've successfully established there is a mutual attraction here that has been around longer than either of us realize. Now, off with the dress. Strip for me."

Bella gives me a coy look and walks over towards the bed. I follow in close pursuit; I don't want her more than an arm's length away from me. She stops right in front of it, and tugs on my arm, directing me to sit on the edge of the bed. She stands in front of me, her hands on the hem of her dress.

She suddenly turns around, slowly lifting her dress. The first thing I see is the round curve of her bottom, and my hands instantly reach out to stroke her skin. She gives my hand a quick slap, which is unexpected.

"Just look. No touching. Not yet," she warns.

I groan before I have a chance to catch myself.

"It will be worth it, Edward. I promise."

The dress continues its journey up her back. I see the dimples above her ass, and I want to rub my thumbs over the indentations. I know better, because I don't want her to use my touch as a pretext to stop what she's doing. I sit on my hands, not trusting them.

The curve of her hips dip inward at her waist, and I marvel at the feminine form. So different from a man's boxy shape. I want to run my hands along her sides, following the natural curves of her body. It is so magnificent. I could never tire of seeing this view.

The dress reaches her shoulders, and I can see the tease of her breasts, barely showing from this vantage point. She finishes removing her dress and flings it aside.

Deliberately careful, I ask, "May I see you now, please? I've been a good boy."

She doesn't reply. I watch as she crosses her arms in front of her, and turns to face me.

I'm wholly unprepared for what I see.

If the curves of her backside set me on fire, then I've just become a five-alarm inferno. Her body is sublime in its perfection. I need a moment to take it all in.

She speaks softly, shyly, "Do you like what you see, Edward? I hope it was worth the wait. I'd hate to disappoint you."

"Oh, Bella, you could never disappoint me. In fact, you have surprised and amazed me so much, I'm thinking of asking you to stay naked in front of me for the rest of my life."

Her smile beams in response to my compliment, and she peels her hands away so I can see her whole body. Nipple piercings and all.

I scan her up and down. Her hair still waves over her shoulders, falling over the top of her full, beautiful breasts. They look like they are the perfect size to fit into my hands. Her pierced nipples cause my cock to twitch.

Her waist curves inward, so she has an hourglass figure. Round breasts, round hips, curvy ass. Goddamn, she is femininity personified.

When my eyes reach her pussy, I see that she is waxed bare. I can feel my eyes widen in surprise. How much more can I take? Every new thing I discover from her body being revealed to me makes me harder and want her more. I was already a fool for her; I'm now eternally devoted to her. She's all I've ever wanted.

"Jesus, your nipples! Your pussy! It's too much. It's just too much."

Her face melts into disappointment at once.

"No, Bella, you misunderstand—I've been attracted to you from the first moment I saw you. To have you here in front of me, naked, bare pussy, pierced nipples, I can't stand it. You've taken something I've craved, and made it into the most perfect specimen I could imagine. I never want to see you in clothing again."

I reach out tentatively, cupping her breasts into my hands. She closes her eyes, taking in the sensation.

"Your hands feel so good."

I run my thumbs over her nipples, enjoying how swiftly they react to my touch. I grab the barbells between my thumbs and forefingers then twist them slowly. She rewards my efforts with a moan that goes straight to my cock.

I run my nose over her erect nipples then take one into my mouth. I work my tongue over the nub, and grasp the barbell between my teeth. The multiple sensations of tongue, teeth, and barbell causes her to sink into my lap, straddling me, and she weaves my hair between her hands.

"Yessss," I hear her coo to me softly.

I feel goose bumps erupt on the surface of her skin and I smile to myself, knowing that I caused that. I made the hottest woman in the world react to my very touch.

While my mouth is busy playing with her nipples, I move my palm slowly down her abdomen. My hand skims over her pubic bone, avoiding her clit; there's time for that later. My index and middle fingers trace the edge of her outer vulva, causing her to gasp suddenly. Again, I fucking love how responsive she is to me sexually. It's such an incredible turn on.

I'm in no hurry to dive into her. As horny as I am, I still want to take my time to discover all the secrets her body has. My index finger moves lightly over her lips and I learn just how aroused she is; my finger is covered in wetness.

"I'm so wet, Edward. It's never been like this before! I think you have magic in your fingers," she exclaims. She takes my hand away from her pussy, sucking my finger into her mouth. It's such a wanton act, and I love that she is so unguarded sexually. She is as in the moment as I am. I've never experienced that before; most women are reserved at first, as if sex isn't something they should be able to enjoy. There's none of that with Bella, and it makes her place in my heart even larger. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that I dislike about this woman.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you are the goddess Venus personified, Bella Swan. I'm simply amazed at how responsive your body is to my touch, and awed by your perfect shape. Not to mention the spell you cast over me the minute your clothes came off. You're either Venus, or Glinda the Good Witch of the North, or a combination of both. Are you ready to fuck me yet? Because I really need you. Now."

"No."

"NO? What the fuck?"

"There's something I want to try, first."

"Oh?"

"Well, yeah, it's something I read about when I was doing research."

"You were doing research on uncircumcised penises?"

"What? I just like to be prepared, you know? Do you not know me well enough by now to know that I _always_ do my research?"

_The woman of my dreams, who happens to have a body sculpted just for me, does research on foreskin in her free time. Clearly, I'm already dead, because reality cannot be this fucking good. It just cannot._

I hear myself groan. "You are going to be the death of me, Bella Swan. So, what did your research tell you?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Implicitly," I say, kissing her belly.

"Always."

_Kiss._

"Without question."

_Kiss._

"Perfect! OK, I need an oral syringe and water. Oh, and your sculpted-by-the-gods, uncut cock."

"O-kay," I say with some trepidation. I do trust her, but the words "syringe" and "your uncut cock" naturally ring a few alarms in my brain.

"I need to go get a few supplies. I swear to god, if you touch yourself while I'm getting ready, I won't touch you again."

_Point taken, no chance of that happening._

I put both hands in the air, using the universal sign of innocence.

I hear her fumbling around with her suitcase then she brings a small toiletry bag over to the bathroom. I can't imagine what she is going to do, but the suspense is killing me.

Bella reappears with a number of items, which she sets down on the side table next to the bed. She spreads a towel out on the bed then pats her hand on it, signaling me to move on top of it.

I lay down on the towel on the bed, and Bella spreads my legs apart. She leans over and kisses me, moaning loudly into my mouth. I seize the opportunity to squeeze her ass. I'm so worked up I have to warn her of impending doom.

"You better get your experiment underway, or I will be compelled to fuck you in a minute."

She just laughs in response and goes about her business. She takes out an oral syringe and a cup of water. I watch as she fills the syringe with the water, and my eyes get large. She takes note of my actions.

"You do remember you said that you trust me? This is going to be your reward for giving me that trust, I promise."

Bella kneels between my legs, syringe in her hand. My cock is aching for her touch. As if she knows intuitively what I need, she wraps her hand around me and gives me several agonizingly good pumps. Unwittingly, I thrust into her hand, unable to control my body's response to her.

Being the consummate medical professional that she is, Bella talks me through her plans before she begins. "Okay, so here's what I'm going to try. I'm going to take this syringe, slide it under your foreskin, pulling the skin up over the head of your cock. Then I'm going to squirt the water out of the syringe, and suck it back in, over and over until you cum. Sound like a plan?"

_What. The. FUCK?_

I'm half terrified, half completely, totally lust ridden. I do trust her, but this is my _penis_ we're talking about here. My pride and joy. My better half. The part of me that gets to express just how happy Bella Swan makes him.

On the other hand, this means that Bella is going to be touching me, and I get to experience something that has never, ever crossed my pervy mind, even in my wildest thoughts.

_Fuck it. I'm totally game._

I nod at Bella to indicate my acquiescence.

She lets her first squirt go, and I experience the most intense, incredible, amazing thing I've ever felt in my life. My hips thrust involuntarily, and I hear myself groan out a scream. I shout out the word "FUCK!"

"Oh my god, Edward, did I hurt you? Maybe I should have started more slowly?"

_Oh no, I need to set this shit straight, because I NEED to feel that again!_

"You fucking get back to what you were doing, because that is the most intense, incredible, amazing feeling I've ever had in my life."

The grin on Bella's face is priceless. She's clearly pleased with herself, and she should be.

She starts the process over again, pumping the lever of the syringe up and down. Every squirt feels more intense than the first, and I'm trying to hold out as long as possible. Given the epic teasing that has gone on today, it isn't going to take much more to push me over the edge.

Then she starts talking dirty.

Leaning over me, looking me in the eye, she whispers, "Fuck, Edward, your cock is so perfect. It is so hard, and so ready to fuck me. I need to see you come for me, first. I want to see what I do to you. I want to watch you unravel in front of me."

I have no control over the words that spill out of my mouth. "Fuck…Bella…sooooo goooood. Want…to…come…"

She continues, "Don't worry, I'm not stopping until you cum for me. I want to see your face when you come."

"Jesus fucking Christ! Need…come now…don't stop…_pleeeeease_…"

"Oh, I'm not stopping until you jizz everywhere. Your hard cock is making me so wet, I can't wait until I get to feel you inside of me."

With that, I'm gone. I groan out as my orgasm pulses through me. I've never been as deeply lost in the moment as I am right now. I'm completely gone, unable to think, not knowing where I am. The only awareness I have is the sensation of my orgasm running through me. It is nothing but the most sublime pleasure. This is, hands down, the best sexual experience I've ever had.

The next thing I'm aware of is Bella snuggling into my side, wrapping her arm and leg around me as I come down from my high. I breathe deeply, settling, and kiss her forehead.

"Bella Swan, you just gave me the most amazing orgasm I've ever had in my life. Do you have any idea how extraordinary you are?"

"I've never been called extraordinary before, but it proves my point that research is definitely a good thing."

"Jesus, that is the understatement of the century!"

Bella's hand is resting on my abdomen, right above my softened cock, when she suddenly wigs out.

"Oh my god!" she screams.

I sit up, concerned. "What is it?"

"Edward Cullen, _you are a C5_!"

"I'm a what?"

She speaks slowly and deliberately, as if I am a preschooler. "You. Are. A. C5."

I shake my head as she speaks, still not understanding what she's telling me.

"A C5. In the foreskin coverage index. The head of your penis is partially covered by foreskin, but completely uncovered when the guy is fully erect. You have the penis of my dreams, Cullen. Do you understand? _The penis of my dreams_! It's _perfect_."

There are plenty of enjoyable moments in life. There are times you are pleasantly surprised. The number of times that the woman you've ached for comes out and admits that you sport the penis of her dreams? If you're incredibly, unfathomably lucky, it happens once. Only once.

_This is a couch jumping moment if ever there was one. Forget about the fact that Bella Swan fucking wants my ass—Bella Swan thinks MY PENIS IS PERFECT!_

I swallow hard and take a deliberately slow, deep breath.

"Well, for every perfect penis, there has to be a perfect pussy. I'm afraid I need to make an up close and personal inspection of yours, ma'am."

I throw the towel that was underneath me off the bed, and position myself between Bella's legs. I bend her legs at the knees and gently spread her lips apart. She is so wet there are patches of moisture on either thigh and it makes me smile. I'm responsible for that.

_Fucking lucky bastard._

Her pussy is so pink, beautiful, and wet, engorged just for me. Carefully, reverently, I take one of her lips in my mouth, nibbling it gently. Her quick intake of air tells me I'm on the right track. Her hips move side to side, seeking friction and relief.

"Not yet, Bella. It's your turn to be teased within an inch of your life. In Cullen's world, it's an orgasm for an orgasm. I don't get another one until you get yours first."

"God, Edward, that's just… hot. Goddamn, I want you so badly!"

"You'll have me, I swear. I need to do this first."

She whimpers for me.

I slowly drag the tip of my tongue along her slit, and savor her taste. There's nothing quite like the aroma of a pussy just inches in front of your face, and the fact that it is Bella's makes it impossibly alluring. I could spend hours here, like it is my own personal playground. Clearly, someone had me in mind the day Bella Swan was designed. I say a thousand silent _thank yous_ for that.

I draw back, placing my thumbs on either side of her lips, in order to keep her spread open in front of me. I blow a trail from her entrance all the way to her clit, and she starts wiggling her hips again, seeking relief. She isn't going to get any. Not yet.

I pause, enjoying the torture I'm giving her. Apparently, I pause too long.

"EDWARD CULLEN! Stop teasing! I can't stand it!"

I chuckle, and decide she's right. She deserves one hell of an orgasm.

Like a man on a mission, I seek out her clit. I run my tongue over it, then suck it into my mouth. Treating it like hard candy, I work my tongue over her as if she is going to dissolve. I slide my finger inside of her as I work her clit, which earns me a very satifying, "Fuuuuuuck, Edward!"

I rather like hearing my name being uttered as if it is an expletive. Now, I need to hear her scream it. Out loud.

She wiggles on my finger, so I opt to add another. I bite down on her clit as I curl my fingers inward to find the special place that will guarantee Bella an orgasm from the gods.

I stroke her g-spot roughly, and it doesn't take more than a few passes to achieve my goal: Bella Swan is blossoming under my touch.

I watch as she comes undone, the way she jerks her hips, the way her breathing pattern changes, the way her chest flushes. Her eyes are tightly shut, and she's biting on her lower lip. Every time I see her do that in the future, I will be forever reminded of the moment I gave her her first orgasm from me, and she does it all the fucking time.

As her breathing returns to normal, I pull my fingers away and automatically bring them to my mouth. I can't get enough of her.

After being buried head first in Bella's pussy, all I can think of is fucking the hell out of her.

"Bella, I'd really like to fuck your beautiful pussy within an inch of your life, but I need to let you know that I'm clean. I have condoms with me, are you using any kind of back up protection?"

"Oh, I haven't had sex in an embarrassingly long time, but my last screen was clear. I take Seasonale."

"Are you okay without a condom, then?"

"What, and miss out on the penis of my dreams unsheathed? Are you kidding me?"

_Not only can we go bareback, but she only has her period four times a year? THANK YOU, baby jeebus!_

"Well, all right then. I'm going to make you scream out my name before we're through, you know."

"That better be a promise, because I'm dripping wet and nothing but balls deep is good enough for me right now."

With a grin on my face, I grab all the pillows on the bed and place them underneath Bella's hips. I want to be able to hit her g-spot when I thrust, so this should work.

As I move over her, my cock slips right inside of her, and I control my movement enough to thrust as deeply into her as possible. She's tight and simply perfect; I've never felt a more perfect cunt in my life.

I pull back so I nearly exit, and thrust back into her as hard as I can, grinding our hips together when I'm as deep as I can possibly get. My movements are slow and deliberate.

I hear her whisper, "Faster, Edward. Harder."

"All in due time, baby."

She looks shocked by my response. "Did I say that out loud?"

"You certainly did. I'm just getting started here."

She starts thrusting her hips into me, in time with my own. We're slamming together, hard, and maximizing the depth of my penetrations.

"Edward, I've never had a partner as big as you before. It's so good…" she whimpers out.

_My cock is king of the world!_

I take my thumb and press it to her clit, because I'm already close and I promised her an orgasm for every one I get. I'm a man who keeps his promises.

I'm surprised how quickly Bella peaks; she comes quickly, with no build up. It just explodes from out of nowhere.

The scream she makes is completely uncensored and raw. Not only that, it is comprised of the letters of my name. Yes, I induced an orgasm worthy of screaming my name, and I'm damn proud of it. Tonight has been filled with revelations, and hearing my name screamed from Bella Swan's throat is the pinnacle of my sexual achievement. It will never get any better than this.

I continue to move in and out of her, my own orgasm closely behind hers. She sticks her finger in her mouth and slyly reaches behind me and rubs my backdoor entrance. No woman has ever done that to me before, so I have to dual sensations of it being a novel experience, teamed with that area being so sensitive, to contend with. That element of surprise is apparently all it takes to send me over the edge, and I come hard. I pump into her stroke after stroke, riding out the waves of my release.

We collapse onto the bed, exhausted. I'm half way on my stomach, and Bella is half on top of me. We lay there for a few moments, simply recuperating from the experience and enjoying the warmth of our bodies comingling.

Bella is the first to speak. "Edward Cullen, I have to be frank with you—your parka has probably ruined me for life. I don't think I want to look at another penis as long as I live, because yours is absolute perfection."

"Well, that's only fair, because my parka just told me that it wants to take up permanent residence shared between your mouth and your pussy. Apparently, our genitals have made the tough decisions for us."

"Well then, I think we'll just have to listen to them," she says sweetly, turning to give me a soft and gentle kiss on the lips.

"Okay. The first order of business, then, is to make sure we stay in this bed all night. I may end up needing confirmation that parkas are truly your favorite," I explain as our legs tangle together and she burrows her head into my neck.

I watch her breathing change as she falls fast asleep. She is perfect and beautiful, so peaceful, and I want to stay in this moment forever.

I whisper in her ear, "Welcome to West Germany, Bella Swan. I hope you enjoy your stay."


	13. Welcome to West Germany?

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: ****For those of you interested, I will be offering two one-shots/outtakes for Fandom Gives Back. It won't be an auction, just first come, first served. For more details, **

**Even though Dr. Cullen and Nurse Swan have settled their score, so to speak, there are still plenty of things to cover before the end of the story. Promise. We're only about ½ way there.**

**A big shoutout to my Twitter girls for their running commentary on what exactly it is that makes v-necks so appealing on Rob Pattinson. They provided the perfect inspiration for this chapter.**

**Things I own: A container filled with all the fortunes we've gotten from fortune cookies over the past 25 years. Spawn even collects them now!**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX. She always comes through for me, no matter how much she has on her plate. ILY and you are very special to me.**

**CHAPTER TWELVE: WELCOME TO WEST GERMANY?**

_I watch her breathing change as she falls asleep. She is perfect and beautiful, so peaceful, and I want to stay in this moment forever. I whisper in her ear, "Welcome to West Germany, Bella Swan. I hope you enjoy your stay."_

Awareness comes to me gradually. My first realization is that I'm completely tangled up in someone else's naked body.

_Oh, not just any someone—this is Edward Cullen!_

A small smile blooms on my face as I recall some of the lascivious things we did to each other last night.

_Oh my god, I did the syringe thing to him! I can't believe he let me!_

I fight to suppress a laugh; I don't want to wake up Edward, because he seems very comfortable at the moment. I want to simply enjoy the feeling of this beautiful, naked man.

_Edward Cullen is a C5. _

_EDWARD CULLEN IS A C5!_

I hit the sex and beauty jackpot last night, and I never want to let that penis go. The man it is attached to is pretty fucking awesome, too.

_God, that sex! I felt like I floated away into space. I've never been so completely absorbed like I was last night. He's fucking incredible._

I get the urge to pee, now that I am genuinely awake. I shift my thigh carefully, but Edward notices. Well, his beautiful, perfect, C5 cock notices, anyway. Then I feel how delightfully hard it is becoming against my bum. Suddenly, I have no intention of going anywhere. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, taking in his wonderful man smell. There's nothing even remotely gross or dirty about the scent. It is pure man and Edward, and it makes my mouth water.

Edward, however, has other ideas.

He flips me onto my back, settling himself between my legs, and puts his face in the exact same location on me where I had been poised on him previously. His breath on my collarbone tickles, and I can feel him inhaling deeply.

_He likes my smell as much as I like his!_

I'm delighted we both enjoy each other's scent so much, but there are much more important things I want to do besides inhale Edward all day. Namely, do something with that beauteous C5, morning-wood-hard cock that is flush against my pussy.

I reach down and grasp him in my hand. He responds with a deep groan.

"Do you have any idea what your hand on my cock does to me?"

"Why yes, in fact, I do. I'm palpating the evidence right now."

"And what does your assessment tell you?"

"Honestly, Dr. Cullen, it tells me that you have the most perfect cock I've ever seen." I pause and look him in the eye, and he appears slightly dazed.

"Swan, if you don't want to be pummeled by this 'fine' cock, then you'd best not say things like that," Edward warns me.

All I can manage is a broken whisper. "What exactly makes you think I don't want you to fuck the living daylights out of me? Were my screams last night unconvincing?"

"I'm not sure I remember them very well. I might need you to scream out my name at the top of your lungs so I can recollect the experience."

"Well, you're the one who knows how to do it, so get cracking. Or get fucking, rather."

He doesn't even pause for a beat—he slides right into me, as deeply as he can possibly go, then holds his position for a minute while we both savor the sensation. I've honestly never had a partner who was so well endowed, and the difference I feel is incredible. It's not even remotely uncomfortable, being filled this way, it's as if everything else I've ever felt pales in comparison. It's so satisfying, just having him inside me. When he starts to move, it's overwhelmingly good.

His rhythm this morning is totally different than last night. We aren't as desperate to fuck as we were after our epic teasing yesterday. He thrusts into me only part way, and my hips automatically flex in response, looking for the missing piece of the puzzle. He pulls out, then thrusts again, half way. My hips respond in kind. The third thrust? Oh, that third thrust is pure magic. When I'm expecting him to move half way again, he goes whole hog, all the way in, and my hips flex. The result? We're locked as deeply as possible, and sex has never felt better than in that one, electric moment.

"Fuck… Edward… what are you doing to me?"

"Well, I thought I was fucking you. Is something wrong?"

"YES! No! I… need more… more… NOW!"

He keeps it up, alternating between half thrusts and deep thrusts, and I never know which to expect. The result is a delicious coiling feeling deep inside me, below my navel, that keeps building with every one of his teases.

"Fuck me! Edward!"

"I told you I want to hear you scream my name," he whispers huskily in my ear.

"I… did…"

"Not good enough. _Scream it!_"

The minute he yells scream, he lifts my hips, and the shift in balance allows him to hit me more deeply than before. This time, however, he doesn't withdraw. He leaves his cock where it is, and starts rocking, barely moving inside of me, but the result is that he nudges me from deeper to deepest, back to deeper again. This kind of an assault on my senses is almost unfair. How the hell am I supposed to resist?

That's my last thought before my torso explodes, and Edward finally gets the scream he's been waiting for. He's slapping my body with his so hard that my scream comes out in waves.

"ED!

_thrust_

WARD!

_thrust_

CUL!

_thrust_

LEN!

_thrust_

_FUCK_!"

I'm coming so hard that my body is jerking with every twitch of my orgasm. I barely register his loud grunt when he joins me. He collapses on top of me, and we recover from our joint effort.

Edward's ear is over my heart, and I hear him give a sweet, light sigh. I run my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, and he looks up at me with a smug grin.

"Welcome to my world, Bella Swan. Orgasms served twice daily or on demand, 24/7. Enjoy your stay."

In the haziness of my mind, I turn his words over. There's something so familiar about them, but I can't quite place _why_ they'd be familiar. I sit there, trying to recall where I've heard that before, when I hear an echo in my mind.

_Welcome to West Germany, Bella Swan. I hope you enjoy your stay._

What did he mean by that? West Germany? What the fuck? Because we were at the beer garden last night? Because we talked about eating Leavenworth wienerschnitzel and giggled about the double entendre?

_No, idiot, it's West Germany as in, Berlin Wall. Your Berlin Wall. Your _**blog**_ Berlin Wall._

Edward Cullen knows about my blog?

_EDWARD CULLEN KNOWS ABOUT MY BLOG!_

There is a split second before my body's adrenaline kicks in, where my heart literally stops. As in, I can't feel a beat, for a one tiny moment. Then all of a sudden, the adrenaline reaches my brain and my heart, and my heart responds by increasing the frequency of its beats dramatically. I'm flooding my body with oxygenated blood, and my heart is racing so hard, I can feel my ribcage vibrate. It's my body's natural response to emotional stress. My _fight or flight_ instincts have been aroused, and flight is the way I'm going to go. I sit upright immediately.

For confirmation, I ask, "What did you say?"

Edward is taken aback by my sudden shift from sexually satisfied to Bride of Frankenstein mode.

"Swan? What did I say? What's wrong?"

I attempt to swallow, but the adrenaline rush has made my mouth dry, so I am incapable of following through with the action.

"You said _'Welcome to West Germany.'_"

"Just now? No, I said 'Welcome to my _world_.'"

"Last night. Last night, you said West Germany. I didn't think I heard it, but I did."

Edward's face turns white. "Crap."

_Oh, that is SO not the response I wanted to hear, Dr. Cullen!_

My hands start to shake as the realization sinks in. All those things I said about how hot he was! How gay he was! I am never going to be able to live with this embarrassment.

Never.

I hear myself whisper out, "You know everything. You know how I feel. You knew I wanted you!" My breathing picks up, and I'm close to hyperventilating, the more my new reality sinks in.

"Bella, it's not what you think…"

"Cullen, you read my blog! It was supposed to be secret!" I feel my stomach start to lurch in a totally involuntary response to my stress. "Shit, I need to throw up!"

I run to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, barely making it to the toilet. As I retch, I hear Edward knocking on the bathroom door, pleading me to let him in.

In between heaves, I choke out, "Go away, Edward! I can't talk to you!"

"_Please_ Bella, I need to know you're all right. Fuck, this is all my fault! Come out of the bathroom. I need to see your face. _Please_."

"Go away. I can't do this."

Then I puke again.

**~xXX~**

It takes a while for the heaves to recede, but eventually, they do. That's when I start to cry.

I can tell that Edward is sitting outside the bathroom door, because he hears me. Even though I start out softly, he still hears me.

"Bella, will you please let me in? I want to comfort you."

The tone of his voice—so full of pain—only makes me cry harder.

I hear my phone ringing in the background.

"Edward, will you please get my phone and slide it under the door for me?"

"Of course."

I listen as he searches to find the phone. It stops ringing while he's looking. I have no idea where I left it. I was a little preoccupied when we arrived last night.

While I listen to Edward tear apart our room in order to find my phone, my mind drifts to all of our extracurricular activities from the previous day. How could so many extraordinary things happen in just one 24-hour period? I smile as I recall Edward's territoriality with Red at Starbuck's. Then, Jessica's ridiculous detox moment, when we worked together to revive her as Lauren schemed to have Edward all to herself. Through my tears, I start to laugh when I remember how Edward got rid of Lauren for the rest of the day.

I remember falling into his lap on the inner tube, and the look of complete and total lust he wore as a result. At the bar, when he sexted me from the bathroom. God, that was so hot! When he came out to the dance floor and basically attacked me.

How can one man be so amazing? Why am I the lucky one who gets to enjoy him? I don't believe that I've done anything extraordinary to merit his presence in my life. Oh, and that penis! Dear sweet lord, I get wet just thinking about it!

_He read my blog. He read everything in my blog. How can I ever look at him again?_

The sound of my phone sliding under the door wakes me from my reverie.

"I found it, Bella."

"Yeah, I see that." I look at the message. It was Alice. I take a moment to quickly text her back.

_**Had best sex of life. Cullen read BLOG! Life is over. Laters.**_

She'll understand that I need my space right now.

I decide to make a quick post to my blog, before it gets me into any more trouble.

SUNDAY, JUNE 20, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_MORTIFIED_

Please note that The Nightingale Journals Blog is on hiatus for an indeterminate period of time. I apologize in advance for the inconvenience, but I have no idea when, or even if, it will return. Thank you.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 11:17 AM 0 COMMENTS

**~xXx~**

"Is it all right if we talk through the door, at least? I really want the chance to explain myself to you."

"I might keep throwing up if we do."

"Look, Bella, I'm sorry you didn't know I was reading your blog. I should have told you, but I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"How did you find out about it?"

"McCarty told me."

"McCarty! What the fuck is he doing telling people about my blog?"

"I think I'm the only one he told, because he knew how smitten I was with you. It felt a little wrong reading it without your permission, but it was fascinating to read your perspective on things we had both experienced."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was fascinating to read how much I wanted to fuck a certain green-eyed monster!" I'm positively exasperated and upset. "Dammit, Edward Cullen, not even your fantastic crimples are going to save you from this mess!"

"That's not what I'm referring to. Give me a little credit here, please? To see things from a nurse's perspective, that's something we docs never fully grasp, or take the time to understand. Your training makes you see things so differently from us; your focus is really the patient; my focus is the disease. It changes the entire dynamic when you focus on the person. That was a real epiphany for me."

"I'm still absolutely mortified that you read that stuff, Edward. Remind me that I owe Dr. McCarty a swift kick in the nuts."

I hear him laugh softly, and it's such a wonderful sound. It makes me want to touch his face and feel his arms circle around me.

"Look, at the end of the day, Swan, it's just a blog. It's a public record. If you didn't want your private thoughts to be read, then you really shouldn't be blogging, you should be writing a personal journal instead. You had to know that eventually someone would find out about it. So now I know the Berlin Wall has been breached. In all fairness, it's what we both wanted, isn't it? There's absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. We're two adults. We're attracted to each other. We had sex. I read your blog. What's worse, the fact that I had my cock deep inside of you, or the fact that I read your personal insights? Either way, I'm seeing a very private and personal side to you. I don't see how one is different from the other."

"You make a good point, but I still feel like I need to throw up whenever I think about it."

"Maybe that's the tequila's fault, and not mine."

"Yeah, I was a little happy last night."

"I was ecstatic and it had absolutely nothing to do with alcohol. It was because the one woman I've wanted from the very first moment I saw her was in my bed."

"Oh, Edward. I want all that with you. I want _you_, but how can I forget everything you've learned about me?"

"Because I'm going to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets about you, and then we'll both be equally bare in front of each other. It feels so wrong, but whenever I see you, all I can think about is fucking you senseless. I am determined to experience every last inch of your body. I want to uncover all your secrets that no one else has ever unlocked. I want to know the exact shade of pink your nipples are; do they change color when you're aroused? I want to taste your pussy every day, just to make sure your taste never changes. I want to stare at it and admire how pretty it is. I want to make you so wet that your lips part for me alone. I want to know just how hot and wet I can coax it to be. I want to hear how loud I can make you scream out my name when you come. I want for us to be in the fucking Guinness Book of World Records for shattering the decibel level for a scream during a human orgasm. I want to tease you to the edge and make you beg me to get you off. Most of all, Bella Swan, I want to fuck you so well that any other man's cock would be like a joke to you. I want you to be mine alone. I need to have you, as frequently as is humanly possible."

_Exactly why in the hell is there a door between me and Edward Cullen? _

I stand up in order to open the door, but then I realize that I smell like puke and my mascara is smeared all over my face from crying. This is not the picture I want him to see when I open the door.

"I think that we can start to work on your goal statement, Cullen. It's a good one. I'd like to clean up a bit first, if that's okay. Can you grab my suitcase for me, please?"

I can hear the smile in his voice as he responds. "Yes! I'll be right back."

**~xXx~**

I feel like I've returned to the world of the living after my shower, and much calmer than I had been. My teeth are no longer fuzzy. When I open the bathroom door, Edward is poised right outside, wearing his scrubs.

Did I fail to mention that Edward A. Cullen, M.D., is a devious, sneaky bastard? As if he doesn't realize that he's sex on wheels, especially in those goddamn scrubs. Yes, he is a rotten, wicked, torturing rat bastard.

It makes me want to jump his bones even more.

_Fucker._

My eyes scan over Dr. Sex-on-Wheels to assess the potential damage he will inflict upon my girlie bits. His biceps poke out from the sleeves, because he has his hands on his hips, waiting for me. His muscular forearms are well defined, and his amazing, talented fingers are flexed. Moving over to his torso, I spot a sprig of chest hair peeking out from the v-neck of the scrub top—it makes you stop and wonder, "What else is under there?" Naturally, I follow the v-neck's tip to see where it leads. My eyes travel south, where a lovely commando package is not even close to being concealed. Seeing it poised in front of me like that makes me want to unwrap the present and see what's inside. I'm not sure if he will ever fully understand what it does to me, to see him dressed like that, but I decide to let him know.

I grab the tie on his scrub pants and prepare to untie it. I am unprepared for him to grab my wrists, ensuring I can go no further.

"What?" I ask him, confused.

"I took the liberty of ordering some Chinese for us, since it's past lunch time. If we're going to make it to my parent's house by dinner time, we need to get our asses in gear."

"Oh god, I totally forgot about that. I'm sorry Edward. I didn't plan on having a freakout session this morning."

"I know, and I'm sorry that I caused the freakout session this morning. On a lighter note, though, we worked through a major obstacle in our relationship, and we're both still intact."

"Uh, yeah, Edward, you are _very_ intact. Just the way I like it."

Unable to resist, I pull him towards me and give him a passionate kiss. He returns my passion with enthusiasm.

_Good boy!_

My hands betray me, drifting down to grab his erection. Once again, my attempt is foiled by those skilled hands grabbing my wrists. When you think about it, being handled by Edward Cullen is kind of an erotic experience in and of itself. When he wraps those fingers around me… my mind imagines all kinds of sordid and wonderful things.

"You can count this as the one time in my life that I will ever tell you not to touch my cock, Bella. But unless we want to disappoint my parents, we need to remain focused. Food, okay? Eat?"

I stomp my foot and pretend to be really upset. He knows it's all an act.

"How about it's a deal if I take a raincheck on this fun until later tonight? I need to make sure you get your birthday kiss, after all. It would be so wrong of me to forget that."

"I'm sure we can come to some type of arrangement, Swan. In fact, I know we can," he smirks.

Edward hands me a fortune cookie. "Read it, Bella. Later on, we'll do whatever it says."

"Why, Dr. Cullen, that is actually a very cool idea! Let's do it!"

I read mine out loud: _You are imaginative in using your skills. Apply this next week._

"Now I'm going to be forced to think of all kinds of ways of sexually torturing you over the next week. That should be a lot of fun!" I grab the other fortune cookie and hand it to him. "Your turn."

He breaks the cookie with his long fingers, carefully plucking the fortune out from among the pieces: _You are talented with your hands_.

"Well, that's not really news—you _are_ extremely talented. In all the right ways."

"Swan, I haven't even skimmed the surface when it comes to the many things I want to do to you. _Later_."

The way that last word fell off his lips makes me quiver with antici…_pation_. Being the wicked, torturous rat bastard that he is, he uses those damn crimples to blind me. He knows exactly what he's doing.

"C'mon. Let's eat and get on the road. I already texted Jasper and Alice to let them know what time we're leaving."

We scarf down our lunch, and load up into the car. I'm nervous as hell about showing up at Dr. Cullen's house as Edward's date. I love both Carlisle and Esme, but I'm worried about how readily they will accept me when I'm linked to their only son, the golden wonderchild himself.

A truly horrible thought pops into to mind: What if Carlisle knows about my blog, too?

_Oh, bloody hell_.

**END NOTE: The fortunes Bella and Edward just read are from my fortune cookie collection.**

**Once again, I am fail at responding to reviews, but I appreciate them so much. The fact that you are willing to give me your time and energy will never cease to amaze me. Thank you so much for your kind words, and for loving Dr. Cullen and Nurse Swan.**


	14. Today It's Your Birthday

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: This chapter was a thorn in my side, and I apologize for how long it took to write and post. The good news is that it is extra long (at least I think that is good news…).**

**Ememmyem, Rob's Hob Nobs, and Edward's, are all yours, my dear. **

**Things I own: Two four-day passes to Comic Con in San Diego.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thank you to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading and ensuring that the birthday dinner was full of happehs.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who makes sure that I stick to my New Year's resolution. I love you hard, bb.**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TODAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY**

We drop off Alice and Jasper at our place, and I grab a few things to bring to the Cullen's house, including Edward's family-safe gift. He waits patiently for me on the couch while I run around getting ready.

Jasper should know better than to interrupt me while I'm in serious business mode, but he's apparently a very slow learner.

"Bella, isn't that exactly where you were sitting when I caught you doing research—?"

I give Jasper the best stink eye I can muster.

"You know I love to do my research while sitting on the couch, Jasper," keeping my tone cool, but hoping that he will get the point.

He doesn't.

"No, I mean when you were looking at that crazy website…"

"WHITLOCK! CAN IT!" I warn, menacingly.

While this back and forth is occurring, I watch Edward's gaze shift from me, to Jasper, and back again, as if he is watching a ping-pong tournament. I note that his eyebrows are raised.

_Lovely._

I hear Alice's voice call out, "Jasper, baby, I need your help with my zipper."

_Thank you, Alice Brandon, I owe you my life, once again._

Edward has his crooked grin on, and I just shake my head. "No way. Not telling."

"Oh come on, Swan! My interest is so piqued!"

"And so it shall stay, dear doctor. Some things are better left unsaid, I assure you."

He looks me straight in the eye, giving me his very best Dr. Cullen smoldering glance. "Be careful, because I know how to weasel the information out of you now."

"Exactly what part of 'no way' did you fail to understand? I'm not fooled by your threats, you know. You're the one who needs to be careful, because I know exactly where your balls are located."

We look at each other, intense and grinning. Détente has been achieved.

"Give me another minute to change, then I'll be ready to go."

As I head for my room, I'm startled to find Edward suddenly right behind me. I gasp, surprised, and he pulls my body swiftly into his.

I'm met with a most passionate kiss, and I have no idea where it came from, but I'm not arguing, either. It's been entirely too long since I felt his lips on my own—at least a couple of hours.

I'm a woman of fairly simple needs—I'm low maintenance, and I know what I like. Sex, anything having to do with sex, is good. It is pure, unadulterated pleasure, and I love it. From the moment I had my very first kiss, with Geoffrey Jackson in the back of my first grade classroom, I loved the feeling of someone else's lips upon my own. I've experienced sloppy kisses, overzealous kisses, choke-you-with-my-tongue kisses, and satisfactory kisses. Edward Cullen's kisses, however, are on a whole different plane of existence. Even while I'm in the middle of one, I want more. His kiss is wet, soft, gentle, hard, needy, giving, and exactly what I require at this moment, even though I had no idea I needed it. I start to make little whimpering noises, and he suddenly pulls away.

"Wha? But, no… I…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you sidetracked. The way you walked away from me, I just couldn't resist you. We do need to get going, however."

"That's just mean, Edward, to tease a girl like that!"

He pulls out his finest version of the crimples to dazzle me. I sigh, heading once again for my room, this time with Edward in tow.

"What, do you think I need help or something?"

He gives me a very intense look. "Do not tempt me, Swan. I can only handle so much."

My knees feel weak and nearly buckle underneath me. I take his hand in mine, and we arrive at my room.

"Do you mind if I watch?"

There's something slightly salacious in his request, and he makes it sound so _naughty_.

"Not at all, but it's not going to be anything exciting."

"Bella Swan, watching you take your clothes off and put them back on is _highly_ exciting. Don't you forget that."

There go my knees, again. I honestly thought the swooning faint that women did around the turn of the century was merely drama, but now I have a better understanding of the phenomenon. Those ladies are so lucky they never had to contend with the likes of Edward Cullen. With him in your presence, how the hell are you supposed to avoid swooning, I ask? Not possible.

I slip on a light skirt with a floral pattern and flounce around the hem, and rummage around for a top. I'm not really paying attention to Edward, but he's making mumbling noises while sitting on my bed.

I turn to face him, and he has that focused gaze once again. "What now? What did I do?"

"Jesus fucking christ, Swan, you have no idea? I can see how hard your nipples are from under your bra and it's driving me nuts! Plus, the piercings are poking out, loud and proud, as if to mock me. I'm going to be trying to manage polite conversation with my parents at the dinner table, all the while knowing exactly what you are wearing underneath it all."

I grin smugly. "Good, it will get you back for your epic teasing!" He reaches for my boobs, and I swat his hands away. "We need to get going, _remember?_"

"Well, get dressed then, before I lose my control and attack you!"

I find a stretch cami with a satin border and straps. Before I slide it on, I quickly put a sticky petal over each nipple, so the piercings aren't obvious to Dr. and Mrs. Cullen. I pick up a cotton cardigan to wear over the top, should I get cold later. Sitting next to Edward, it is hard to imagine that I could possibly be cold, but one needs to be prepared for any eventuality.

"Ready?"

He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. I never imagined that such benign contact could deliver an erotic charge, but it absolutely does. It is also such a sweet, caring gesture; no one has ever done that to me before. Despite his abilities in the sack—and oh, is he uniquely skilled in that area—he is also capable of being so considerate and loving. With two such different sides being present in one man, I recognize inherently that I've hit the love jackpot. Clearly, I'm far luckier than I ever deserve to be. I'm afraid that soon I'll wake up, and this will all prove to be nothing more than a wonderful dream.

Edward senses my sudden pensiveness. "Swan, you okay? If I went overboard back there, I'm really sorry. I've never felt like this before—I'm… trying not to overwhelm you…" He pauses, struggling for the right words. "It's warring with my intense desire to have you all the time."

My heart flutters with a few racing beats in response to his words. "I'm simply not used to the attention, Edward, but it's not a problem. Don't worry."

A stuttered sigh escapes from my throat, betraying my words, and Edward frowns in response. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

I feel my cheeks flush, and I answer him quietly. "I don't want to wake up and find that I've been dreaming this. It feels too good to be true, and a small part of me is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. That's usually how my luck works."

"Oh, I'm real, I assure you. I'm not going anywhere, unless you order me away."

I kiss him quickly, and pull my bag over my shoulder. "I'm not sending you away. Ever," I whisper.

"Good," he replies.

**~xXx~**

As we make our way to Dr. Cullen's house, we make a few awkward attempts to describe just what it is that is occurring between us. It's clear that we both feel such an intensity of emotions that neither one of us has ever experienced; it's simultaneously scary and exciting. He reaches over and holds my hand nearly the entire ride, and even that one small gesture feels so calming. It's as if our bodies hum together in synchronization the minute my skin meets his. We turn to look at each other, and a sense of genuine awe passes between us. No doubt about it, we have something rare and special.

He breathes in deeply, and opens his mouth to speak. For a moment, he says nothing, as if choosing his words very carefully.

"There's something you need to know about my parents, Bella," he says, with an underlying tension in his voice.

"Oh my god, the rumors are true? They've been killing innocent victims and burying them in their basement all these years?" I giggle, trying to add some levity to the moment.

He cracks up. "If you only knew, you wouldn't tease about such things."

"Hey, no worries. I know and love your parents already. It's an honor to be invited to their home. I'll treat this occasion with the respect and reverence it deserves."

"About that… I've never brought anyone home before, really. I mean, I've had girlfriends, I went to prom, and all that nonsense. No one has ever come home with me, though, especially not on my birthday. They're both more than a little excited about you, so please excuse them in advance."

His concern is so adorable and charming, I cannot resist it. "Edward, your parents are awesome, and you're so lucky to have them. It will be fine."

He gives me a beaming smile; all his previous tension seems to have dissipated. I can see in his face how much he adores them, and it warms my heart. A man who openly loves his parents is a good man to have. The best kind of man.

During our conversation on the way to the Cullen's house, I'm not paying attention to where we are headed. When I take a moment to look out the window, I realize that we're on the I-90 headed for Mercer Island. I know the Cullens are wealthy people, but _Mercer Island?_ That's where Bill Gates lives, for crying out loud! I am temporarily shocked and suddenly anxious about my general lack of worthiness.

As if the hum of our connection communicates my change in demeanor, Edward asks if I'm all right.

_I'm going to be spending time with ridiculously wealthy people, and I look like I just walked out of a Target ad. No, I'm definitely not all right._

"I'm okay. I didn't realize your parents live on Mercer Island."

He rubs his thumb over my knuckles, offering me gentle reassurance. "Yes, I grew up there; they've been there for years. It isn't a big deal, though. They're still the same individuals you know and love. We're not pretentious people."

I try to give him a smile, but it's rather weak. I feel a little sick to my stomach. I grew up in a tiny house in Forks, Washington. It is far removed from the life Edward has led.

"Hey," he chides, somehow knowing that I'm anything but calmed by his words. "It's only me. I haven't changed in the last 30 seconds. Just breathe; it will all be fine."

"It does freak me out, to be honest. I've always lived pretty modestly."

"They're not ostentatious people, Bella. Give them a chance."

"It's not a judgment of your parents, but I'm going to feel awkward about it."

"Well then, I'll just have to keep you preoccupied with other things." He waggles his eyebrows at me.

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

He kisses my hand again, and I do feel calmer.

_I can do this_.

The scenery when we get on the island is beautiful. I can see why people would want to live here. When we arrive at the Cullen's property, I see that it is protected by a locked gate. Edward adeptly clicks a remote, and the gate opens for us. I look at him for a beat too long, my mouth wide open.

"Bella…" he looks at me apologetically.

I breathe in and out, deeply, centering myself. "You're right, Edward. It doesn't change who your parents are, nor does it make me respect them any less. It's going to be fine."

I nearly convince myself of the truth to my words.

The house is stunning, very modern, but rather understated. It overlooks Lake Washington and is surrounded by mature trees. It is like a hidden oasis; you would never suspect the proximity to Seattle.

We're met at the door by both Carlisle and Esme, and, to my great surprise, two greyhounds. They stand on either side of Edward's parents. The one next to Carlisle is a stunning charcoal gray, with a white breast and belly. The one next to Esme is a beautiful fawn color. The minute they spot Edward, however, all pretenses of calm disappear and they both run up to greet him. I'm shocked by how tall they are; their front paws reach nearly to his shoulders as they move onto their hind legs. They both shower him with kisses, tails wagging. It's clear they love him dearly.

"The black one is Darcy, and the other is Elizabeth. They're litter mates who were abandoned at birth because they were too small to race."

I gasp as I recognize the names of the characters from my favorite novel, _Pride and Prejudice_. I cross my hands over my heart.

Edward smiles at my response and whispers, "My mother is a Jane Austen fanatic."

It's hard to believe that these huge dogs could have once been considered small. Edward whistles to them, and they abruptly return to all fours.

"I forgot to tell you my parents have dogs. Are you all right with that? If they bother you, we can send them upstairs."

"Of course not, Edward. They're so beautiful and elegant. Please, don't make any changes on my behalf."

They approach me with more restraint than they had for Edward, somewhat reserved. Darcy, the larger of the two, appears to be more guarded. Elizabeth licks my hand, tail lightly wagging. I'm surprised to find that they are such gentle creatures, given their size.

We turn to greet Edward's parents, who are smiling at us as if we are long lost relatives returning home for the first time. I should expect no less; they've always been thoughtful, kind people. Although it is their golden boy's birthday, they both direct their initial attention towards me.

"Bella! We're so thrilled you decided to join us tonight! It's a very special day," Esme says, as she leans in to give me a solid, warm hug.

"Thank you for coming to our home, Bellar," Carlisle says almost immediately following Esme, and gives my hand a squeeze while Esme continues to hug me tightly. As if Dr. Cullen wasn't charming enough, his English flourish when he says my name takes the cake.

Edward clears his throat to remind everyone that I'm not the only person in the room.

Carlisle releases my hand and gives Edward a warm hug. "Happy birthday, Son."

"Thanks, Dad. Glad you guys approve of my guest list tonight!" Edward chuckles, amused.

While Esme releases me from the hug, her hand moves to mine and she continues the contact as she moves in to hug Edward. It's as if she doesn't want to let me go, for fear I will run away. Naturally, her fears are completely unfounded; I have no intention leaving this man's sight.

Esme guides me into the huge, marble-floored foyer, where a bottle of champagne on ice rests on a table, surrounded by four champagne flutes. She nods silently at Carlisle, who pops the cork from the bottle, and begins to pour.

"Champagne? Wow, I love it, but I never get to have it. Impressive!"

"Well, Carlisle and I decided long ago that champagne is such a lovely treat, it is a shame to enjoy it only sparingly," she begins to explain, handing me a flute. "We tend to have it whenever there is something to celebrate. Tonight, we are not only celebrating the birth of our son, but also his chosen guest for the evening."

Carlisle raises his glass and says a quick toast. "To my son, Edward, on his birthday. We are so proud of you, and welcome your guest with open arms." With that, we all clink our glasses together and exclaim, "Cheers!"

I'm nearly giddy with disbelief—I've never experienced anything like this in my life, and I've only been here for about ten minutes. The Cullens are clearly remarkable people, and I feel so fortunate to be peeking into their world, if only for a few hours.

Esme addresses me as if I'm the only person in the room. "So, how was the rafting adventure, Bella? Did you have a nice time?"

I feel my cheeks heat up when I remember what I was doing to their boy just 24 hours previously. "It was a wonderful time, thank you. We really enjoyed ourselves. Your son is quite the charmer."

She beams a wide, happy smile at Edward, thrilled with her son. Carlisle leads us down a hallway to their living room, which has enormous floor to ceiling windows. There is a deck overlooking the lake just outside, and the evening sun is streaming into the room. We all step out onto the deck and sit down at a small table, while Carlisle refreshes everyone's glass.

I'm slightly surprised when I feel Edward's hand on my knee, and I reach my hand down to touch his. I look up at him, and his face looks so serene and handsome he nearly takes my breath away. He pulls my hand to his mouth to give it a kiss, and we're so caught up in the moment together, I nearly forget his parent's presence. With a slight clearing of his throat, Carlisle pulls us back out of our dream world and into the present.

Invariably, our conversation turns to work; since the four of us are all linked to Seattle Children's in some shape or form, it's a normal topic for us to discuss. I have so much fun taking in Carlisle and Esme's beaming pride for Edward, and his success as a Fellow in the PICU. These are three well-adjusted people who love each other and are extremely close; it is such a privilege to be part of their circle. In fact, I don't remember ever meeting such a tight-knit family before, and it is a refreshing change of pace.

Most of my experience with families has taken place at work, people facing the worst crisis anyone can imagine—a critically ill, potentially dying child. Those families are never at their best, and it is shocking how easily a crisis can produce deep fissures among family members. Seeing the Cullens together is so easy and calming, and it makes me want to be part of their family forever, even if all I have is this one evening. I'll take what I can get.

After I've drunk several glasses of champagne, I'm feeling light and giggly. We're all laughing and enjoying the pleasure of each other's company. We've drained an entire bottle of champagne, and Carlisle is poised to open another. Esme announces that once he pours another round for everyone, we will be retreating to the kitchen while the boys handle the grilling duties.

As I turn to follow Esme to the kitchen, I feel Edward grab my hand and pull me towards him. He gives me a light kiss on the lips, and my whole body feels it. I let out a long, happy sigh. In this moment, I feel that life is perfect. I'm convinced it doesn't get any better than this. Can this possibly be _my _life? Before I go down that path of thought, Esme's voice reminds me that I was on my way to the kitchen. Edward kisses my forehead, then turns me around and swats my behind. I quickly turn and ball up my fists in the air, a gesture of silent frustration. We both giggle, and I make my way back to Esme's side.

"I hope you don't mind helping me out for a moment, Bella. I wanted to get you away from the boys for a minute, so we could have some girl talk."

Esme's voice has a hint of mischief to it, and I love how she is including me so willingly into the family's routine. I experience a momentary heart-clench, remembering how much I loved to spend time with my own mother before she died.

Esme is an expert at human emotion, sensing at once my hesitancy. "Bella, dear? Is everything all right? Are we overwhelming you?"

I give her a sad smile. "You're fine. Being close to you reminds me of my mom. She died when I was fourteen. It's times like these that I really miss her."

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I know it takes a long time for the sharp edges of your loss to soften, and it never truly goes away."

Like the natural nurturer she is, Esme stops what she's doing and pulls me into a hug. She is soft and warm, and smells wonderful. I take a moment to simply relax in this wonderful woman's arms, and allow my empty pangs a moment to breathe. When I feel sufficiently calmed, I pull away, and thank her softly.

"My arms will always wide open for you, Bella. Once you've been a mom, it seems as though you're willing and able to care for anyone who needs some mothering, no matter what their age. Or yours."

Esme sets me to work, fixing a salad while she flits around from fridge, to range, to prep station. She appears to be an expert organizer, timing it all perfectly.

We talk about everything and nothing; I've rarely met someone who is able to strike an immediate chord of understanding so quickly. It's no wonder she was an incredible nurse. She's also a total hottie, and I can easily see how Carlisle was attracted to her; they make a beautiful couple. It's hard to believe she's old enough to have a son Edward's age.

"Would you be offended if I ask you how you and Carlisle fell in love?"

She smiles widely. "I would love to tell you that story! It's so much fun. Back when Carlisle was an Attending Physician, nurses were quite subservient to the doctors. We were treated more like their secretaries than the professionals we were, and frequently had to do things like fetch a cup of hot coffee for them. Although I was an ICU nurse, I still had to take orders from the doctors, and there wasn't much of an opportunity to use independent thinking skills. Because Carlisle was British, however, he always seemed to do things a bit differently. I noticed he asked the opinions of the nurses, and was interested in the types of cares we were providing. He really inspired a sense of teamwork and camaraderie, and made the nurses feel respected in a way other physicians never did.

"Between his handsome face and smooth accent, all the nurses swooned over him. I felt like such a plain girl, so I never believed that there was a risk that he would be attracted to me. Because of that, I was perhaps bolder than I otherwise would have been around him, and we grew very close. He told me stories about growing up in England. He was the most interesting man I'd ever met, absolutely charming and kind, intelligent and noble, always striving to be the very best he could be.

"After working together for over a year, I recognized that I had fallen in love with him. I was convinced that my love would be unrequited. He was so beautiful and I was so plain, it would never have made sense for him to return my feelings. Because of that, I never attempted to let him know how I felt. All the other nurses flirted with him shamelessly, but I never did. We ended up working New Year's Eve together, and at midnight, we all watched the clock turn over to the new year. As people were throwing confetti, Carlisle pulled me aside into a closet. I was so shocked; I had no idea what was going on. He confessed to me that he had been in love with me from the first time he saw me. He said I was driving him to distraction, and he worried I didn't have feelings for him, since I never flirted. He looked so vulnerable and lost, wanting to know if I felt I could ever love him, too. I acknowledged that I had been secretly in love with him for months, and we've been together ever since."

I felt myself tearing up in reaction to the Cullen's story. It was so perfect and sweet, everything a good love story should include.

"That is such a romantic story—both of you being in love, assuming it is unrequited, and then learning about all the time you wasted convinced that the other person could never love you. It reminds me of the story _Persuasion; _you both could have easily ended up in the arms of someone else had you not confessed your mutual love from the confines of a closet!"

"Thank you, dear. I make sure to be thankful for Carlisle's presence in my life each and every day. You have to be grateful for that perfect love, if and when it finds you." She pauses for a moment, looking at me studiously. "If you don't mind Bella, I'd like to make an observation about you."

I'm caught off guard; I cannot imagine what Esme would want to say to me that would allow her to preface her comments like that.

"Uh, okay. Fire away."

"I know you've been in my house for less than an hour, but the mutual attraction between you and Edward is plainly obvious. I've never seen him look at another woman the way he looks at you. In fact, when I see you two together, it reminds me so much of Carlisle and I when we first met. When that perfect love finds you, you have to recognize it for what it is and then grab it by the horns."

I'm a little shocked by Esme's bold, no-nonsense statement. Meeting a boyfriend's parents is supposed to be stressful, awkward, and uncomfortable. Somewhere along the way, she must have lost the Wicked Mother-In-Law handbook. Where most potential Mothers-In-Law would be sizing you up and cutting you down, Esme is not only supportive, but encouraging. She has let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I'm The One for her golden child.

This weird, wacky ride that I've been on from the moment Edward Cullen picked me up at my door on Saturday morning keeps getting more and more surreal. I begin to suspect that I'm on a secret reality TV show, the kind where they come out and unpleasantly surprise you, like _Candid Camera._ Soon, someone is going to let me know the gig is up.

"I've shocked you into silence, haven't I? I don't mean to pounce on you, Bella, and I'm sorry if I've overwhelmed you. When you're a mother, you know your child so well. All you ever want is for them to be happy. Life is too precious to waste a moment of potential happiness. For me, it feels criminal to stand idly by without acknowledging the special bond you two share. You're a wonderful girl, Bella, both Carlisle and I agree there. We couldn't ask for a better woman for our son."

"Uh…we've only just acknowledged our feelings for one another, but it has been building up for a while."

"I don't want you to think I'm always so forward and bold; my intuition tells me that you prefer it when people say it like it is. I simply see something positive and noteworthy in front of me, and have to acknowledge it."

I'm stunned and flattered by Esme's words, but have no idea how to respond to her. I simply tell her, "Thank you," and return to finishing the salad.

She sets down a platter next to me, and hugs me from behind. Her wonderful Mom smells surrounds me once again, and I feel safe and loved. The simple, reassuring connection of her hug makes words unnecessary.

After a few moments, she breaks her silence. "Now, I hate to break up our fun, but the boys need to put these vegetables on the grill right about now. Would you mind carrying it out to them?"

"Of course not. I'll be right back."

I walk quickly out to the deck, only to find Edward and his father in a deep conversation. They don't even hear me approach.

"Edward, your mother is working her particular brand of magic right now. You know Bellar won't be able to resist her charms."

"Um, Dad, that's exactly what I'm afraid of. Remember the whole 'I don't want to scare her off' conversation we had?"

"Son, your mother is an expert. She knows the fine art of finesse. She'll have Bellar eating right out of her hand within five minutes. Give her an hour, and Bellar will be begging you to give her offspring."

"Dad! That's not even funny!"

"I didn't mean for it to be. Your mother is an intelligent and determined woman. Since Bellar is the first and only woman you've ever brought to meet us, she knows you mean business. As she has told you on numerous occasions, 'A mother is only as happy as her saddest child.' She means to ensure your future happiness."

"I understand that, but it's so premature! I only just got Bella to understand how much she means to me! I really, truly want this to be a long term, if not permanent, relationship."

"Edward, trust me. Your mother knows exactly what she's doing, and it is all in your best interest. Seriously. Just relax and let her work her magic, OK? I did manage to gain one concession from her: She promised not to spill any embarrassing moments from your childhood during dinner."

_OH. MY. GOD._ Did I hear that correctly? My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it is going to pound out of my chest. My breathing becomes rapid and shallow.

Could Edward Cullen really, truly want a long-term relationship with me? I feel this odd sense of déjà-vu, like I'm living through a replica of what Esme just described about falling in love with Carlisle.

The thing is, if I am completely honest with myself, I want everything Edward and Esme just described. I want Edward, all of Edward, so much. I feel as if I'm on some carnival ride that continues to gain speed, until you're convinced you're going to fly off. We've been moving at an incredible speed, and nearly every cell in my body is screaming at me to slow down and take a step back. I'm usually so sensible and rational, but apparently I am unable to exercise that part of my brain when it comes to Edward Cullen. I know inherently what I _should_ do—no one can fall in love this quickly, it's simply too much too soon. My mind, however, isn't buying into that argument. It wants me to accept the reality and move forward, as if the universe is unfolding exactly as it should.

When I attempt to announce my presence, the only thing that comes from my mouth is a sort of squeaky half-gasp. Edward startles from the sound, and turns around quickly. Carlisle just gazes on my with a beautiful smile on his face.

"Um… vegetables?" I croak out, holding up the platter for them to see.

Edward's face looks embarrassed, but Carlisle's answering smile is blindingly smooth. He arrives next to me, taking the platter from my hands.

"Thank you, Bellar," he says in his silky accent that he still possesses after living in the States for more than thirty years. I love how my name rolls of his tongue. He takes the platter from my hands and gives it to Edward, who still looks embarrassed.

"I'm going to go freshen up your champagne flutes in the kitchen, my dear. I'll be back in just a moment."

Suddenly, Edward and I are standing face-to-face, alone. We both have a look of shell shock.

"Did you hear what we were talking about?" He asks, sounding like a child who knows he's done something wrong.

I can't lie to him. "Yes, Edward."

"Are you okay?"

I smile at him, reassuringly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I'm concerned that my parents might be overzealous with you. I tried to explain their overall level of excitement to you in the car; this is what I meant."

"Cullen, your parents are truly good people. They are richer than Croesus, but they are so modest. Your mom has done everything she can to be warm and welcoming. Your father is the same way. Seriously, it is a lot to take in, but I think we've both acknowledged that this thing between us that I have no words to describe or explain, is deep and genuine. There is no road map for a connection like ours. I'm beyond analyzing it; I've decided to simply accept it as is. Does that make sense?"

He takes a few quick steps over to me, and takes me in his arms. The moment I feel him engulf me, my sense of calm returns. He kisses the top of my head, and I'm home, exactly where I belong.

We stand together, watching the grill, quietly happy in each other's presence. The way we feel right now is beyond words.

"Should I go back and help your mom? I was only supposed to deliver the vegetables."

"Uh, how do I say this?" he chuckles. "I've learned over the years that it's best to leave my parents alone when Dad goes in to help Mom, if you know what I mean."

"Oh! God, I'd hate to walk in on them."

"Exactly. Besides, I don't want you to leave my side."

I stand up on my toes and pull his face over to meet mine. "In that case, let's take advantage of their current distraction," I smile deviously. "Kiss me."

"I was just going to suggest the same thing," he smirks.

His kiss captures my lip between his. It never fails, every time his mouth connects with mine a warm rush spreads over my body. I get all tingly, as if my limbs are asleep. Even the smacking, moaning sound of his kiss gets me going. He starts to pull away from me, keeping my bottom lip between his, and I instinctively thread his hair through my fingers and pull him back into me. He smiles in the midst of our kiss.

"I need to check the steaks, Bella."

I start to mumble "Noooo" as I attack his lips, but he gets to my hands and removes them from the back of his neck before I can get very far. I thrust my lip out in a pout to protest this unfairness. Edward plants a quick peck on my lips in consolation. "Later, I promise."

I raise one eyebrow in surprise. _Later? There's going to be a later?_

"It is my birthday, after all."

"Oh yeah. I might be up for giving you one birthday kiss."

He nearly growls with my teasing. "If I get what I want for my birthday, it's more than one fucking kiss, Swan."

I decide to rub my palm over his cock, finding it deliciously hard.

"What part of 'later' did you not understand?" He says, repeating my phrase from earlier in the day.

I remove my hand, but not without uttering, "Oh, man!" teasingly.

Carlisle and Esme join us, bringing out dishes from the kitchen. I notice that Carlisle's hair looks a little bit like his son's at the moment, and I have to restrain a giggle, because I know exactly how it got that way.

_Esme, you're such a little minx! Who knew?_

We get the table set, and Carlisle pours some wine to go with the meal. He raises his glass for a toast once again.

"To family, and all the joys that go with sharing a delicious meal with the people who mean the most to you."

I wonder to myself if these two could be any more endearing, and decide the answer is probably no.

It isn't long before I feel Edward's hand on my knee, but I'm surprised by how clammy it is. I assume his palms are just sweaty from working the grill. I sneak my hand onto his thigh and start gently running my fingers up and down. I'm met with a raised eyebrow.

"_What?_" I mouth to him.

He motions towards his leg by nodding his head in that direction.

I don't understand what he's trying to tell me. Why is it okay for him to rub my bare knee, but I can't touch his?

My question is answered moments later, when I feel something wet move up my calf. I scream in reply.

All three Cullens turn to me in alarm, and I see Elizabeth poke her head out from underneath the table.

I now understand Edward's reaction to my stroking his thigh, and I flush in embarrassment, while giggling uncontrollably. The Cullens are still watching me, so I feel the need to explain.

"Oh, I just felt something clammy on my knee and I thought it was Edward, until I felt Elizabeth lick my leg. It just caught me by surprise, is all."

Carlisle laughs heartily in return. "You have to watch her like a hawk, she is notorious for begging. She will give you the sad eyes look, but don't buy into it. She isn't allowed to have table scraps. Greyhounds have very sensitive stomachs."

After a couple of beats, Edward asks, "Wait, why would you think that was me?" Soon, all three of them are laughing at my expense.

"Hey, I've never had a dog before. I wasn't expecting a cold nose on my knee!"

He continues laughing, and gives me a little kiss on my cheek.

Elizabeth is soon joined by Darcy, and they flank either side of me, waiting for an errant scrap of food to fall onto the floor, true to Carlisle's word. From time to time, one of them licks their chops, trying to convey how starving they are. I try hard to ignore it, but it still makes me feel guilty every time I put a piece of steak into my mouth.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Carlisle speaks. "Bellar, I was so surprised that you decided to go on hiatus status for the Nightingale Journals. When do you think you'll start them up again?"

The sudden need to throw up is overwhelming. I really don't want to ruin the place setting in front of me, but if we continue talking about my blog, I will have no choice in the matter.

I gag on the bite of food residing in my mouth, resulting in a coughing fit. Edward gives me a pained, concerned look, and Carlisle and Esme exchange glances.

I swallow and then take a long swig of water to wash it down. Denying myself the need to hurl, I take a deep cleansing breath. It really does make me feel better, at least momentarily.

"I didn't know you were aware that I was writing a blog, Carlisle," I choke out as carefully as I possibly can.

"Oh, when I heard about it, I was immediately interested. It's been a fascinating read, I must say."

I feel the blush creep over my face. Once again, my actions are forcing me to face the music. Why in god's name was I ever naïve enough to think that no one would learn my identity? I'm not a stupid person, but I wasn't acting very clever now.

Edward reaches under the table and clasps my hand, offering his silent support. It means everything to me, and bolsters me with the courage I need to respond.

"Well, that's the problem, you see. I thought it was going to be secret. That's what held the appeal for me, being able to wax philosophically about the nursing profession without having to write a manuscript. Somehow, the anonymity was what I needed to initiate the project. It's really just a collection of thoughts and ideas about nursing, and I usually write it in response to a particular incident on a shift. It's been a way for me to debrief and keep things in perspective."

"It sounds like something I'd really enjoy reading; Carlisle never mentioned it to me," I hear Esme say. "I'd love to learn about ways in which the profession has changed since I was practicing."

What is it with the Cullens? Why would they so fascinated by something so unimportant?

"Mom, Dad, can we just drop the subject? It's obvious Bella feels uncomfortable right now," I feel Edward offer me another reassuring squeeze. I'm surprised to find that it does, indeed, reassure me. I look over and give him a small smile of thanks.

"Well, we can certainly talk about other things, Edward. I don't want Bellar to feel awkward," Carlisle explains. "I do want you to know, Bellar, that I was extremely impressed by the depth and clarity of your observations, and I was actually thinking you should try to publish your essays."

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. I sputter once again on the sip of wine that I'm drinking. Edward looks at me with concern.

"I'm sorry?" I couldn't have possibly heard that correctly.

"I genuinely think you should publish. I'd be happy to support you, should you ever decide to do so."

I take a moment to let that idea sink in. I've been on the most amazing, whacky ride of my life for the past 48 hours; my life has changed in strange, wonderful, and dramatic ways. I can't possibly make sense of the presence of Dr. Fuckhot Cullen (Dr. _**Edward**_ Fuckhot Cullen, to differentiate from the original Dr. Fuckhot Cullen) in my life, in addition to his incredible parents. Now, a discussion of publishing my work? I'm beginning to feel lightheaded.

"Thank you for your kind support, Carlisle. I never thought about this as more than just a way to process through some of my work experiences."

"If you decide to change your mind and pick up your blogging again, let me know. I'll just leave it at that."

"You're so kind. I promise I'll let you know."

I glance briefly over to Edward, and he is wearing a mortified expression on his lovely face. That needs to stop immediately, because he is far too beautiful to waste on unhappy visages. I give his hand another squeeze and manage a small smile to let him know I'm all right.

Once again, Esme's intuition swoops in to save the day, by quickly changing the topic.

"Bella, would you help me get the dessert ready?"

I gratefully get up to follow her to the kitchen.

She pulls out a cake, complete with candles, and asks me to grab the matches and camera, along with a fresh bottle of champagne, and we return to greet the boys.

I hand the champagne to Carlisle, since he's been the official sommelier for the evening, and give the matches to Esme once the cake is sitting in front of Edward.

"Mom, I appreciate the gesture, but I think once you're officially out of your twenties, candles are no longer necessary."

"My dear boy, it is a mother's prerogative to celebrate her child's birthday any way she wishes. You _will_ continue to have candles on your cake."

We all sing happy birthday, and Edward blows out most of his candles. All except one, in fact. He looks at me and winks.

"Well, we know who the one candle is for, Edward," Carlisle says laughingly.

Once the cake is served up, we prepare to open Edward's gifts. Mine is clearly going to be the less exciting of the two, so I insist he open mine first.

He attacks it with more vigor than he should, because I'm convinced it will be dramatically anticlimactic. When he opens the box, he pulls out the plastic bags I filled with cookies. Dozens and dozens of cookies. Six dozen, to be exact.

"Swan, you made me cookies from scratch? For my birthday?"

"Well, when you told me that you love Hob Nobs, I was going to buy some for your birthday, but then I got to thinking that it would be more special if I made them for you. So yes, I made cookies from scratch for your birthday, and filled them with love."

"These are Hob Nobs?" Edward clarifies.

Carlisle, Esme, and Edward look at me, stunned.

"Uh, yes. What? Did I do something wrong?"

They all start to laugh. Now I'm really feeling awkward.

Still giggling, Esme turns to explain. "Bella, you didn't do anything wrong, dear. There is one thing you need to understand about the Cullen family—Carlisle and Edward's love of Hob Nobs and digestive biscuits is legendary. I order the biccies by the case, and the boys are notorious for stealing packages of them from each other. I hide them around the house to draw out how long they last, but the boys always find them. By the time they get down to the last package, it becomes an all-out war. You'd think it was MI-6 versus the CIA, for goodness sake. The fact that you just made them from scratch for Edward is practically like winning the jackpot!"

Edward continues to look stunned. He mumbles out, "You made me Hob Nobs. My very own Hob Nobs."

Carlisle warns me, "Bellar, I hope you know you'll be baking Hob Nobs for Edward for the rest of your natural life now."

Edward gives me a very grateful and passionate kiss, then leans over and whispers in my ear, "If you didn't already have your fingers wrapped around my heart, this just clinched it for you."

I place my hand on his cheek. "You're most welcome. I will bake them for you any day."

Esme hands Edward a small wrapped box. "This is going to be so unimportant compared to Bella's gift, Edward. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, laughing. When he opens it, a plane ticket tumbles out. Edward looks at it, then back up at his parents, surprised. As he inspects them more closely, he says "Round trip, first class tickets to London? Really?"

My jaw drops; what I wouldn't give for the chance to fly to London.

"Mom, Dad, you remembered!" He says to them, excitedly.

Carlisle responds, "Yes, when you said you wanted to escort Bellar on a proper tour of England, we thought this would be the perfect birthday gift."

I gasp loudly. "What?"

Edward leans towards me, showing me the tickets. "Remember when I told you we could be travel buddies, so I could show you the real England, the part that most travelers don't get to experience?"

"Of course I remember, Edward, but I didn't think you really meant it! Having the plane fare given to me was never even on my radar!"

"Well, now you don't need to worry about that part. Isn't that convenient?" He gives me his best crimple smile, and it is so full of joy that resistance is futile.

I take a deep breath in and out. Just because I'm uncomfortable with the Cullen's level of generosity doesn't mean I need to spoil the moment for the three of them. "It is convenient, and the choice in travel partner is highly agreeable." I turn to Carlisle and Esme. "Thank you so much for including me."

They both give me beaming smiles, while Edward gives me a big hug and whispers a grateful, "Thank you" in my ear.

Carlisle takes a moment to refresh our champagne while we dig into Edward's cake. I'm not sure if it is the moment, the company, or the bakery, or, perhaps, a combination of all three, but I have to admit this is the best cake I've ever had in my life, and I enjoy every last bite of it.

We've all had plenty to drink, and we're giggling and enjoying ourselves royally.

"Next time, Bella, I'm going to make sure you get to hear all of Edward's embarrassing childhood stories. Carlisle made me promise not to spill the beans tonight, since it's his birthday."

"Gee, Mom, thanks for that. I'm going to take that as my segue to depart."

Carlisle's face suddenly becomes serious. "Edward, you can't leave right now. We've been drinking far too much for me to allow you to drive home."

Edward sits up straight. "No, I think I'm good, Dad. Bella doesn't have any of her stuff. Just get me a cup of coffee, I'll be good to go."

Esme stands up from the table and crosses her arms in front of her. "Nonsense, you are not driving anywhere. You're spending the night here. We'll get Bella anything she might need. End of argument."

Edward sighs deeply. "Bella, when Esme puts her foot down, we all obey. You need to learn that right now."

Esme walks over to us and kisses Edward on the top of his head. "It's true. I'm as tenacious as my son."

We all get up and clear off the table. Before I even realize that she's gone, Esme returns with a set of towels and a new toothbrush.

"Do you think you need anything else, Bella?"

Surprised by her level of preparedness, I simply answer with a "No."

She gives me a kiss on the top of my head, then pulls me in for a hug. "Sleep well. Thank you for agreeing to stay."

Carlisle gives me a brief hug as well, but this one is a little more awkward. He has never seemed to be the huggie bear type.

They each give Edward a big hug and wish him happy birthday again, then turn to leave, arm in arm.

When I turn to face Edward, he has a lazy, drunk smile on his face. He's clearly a happy drunk, and it's adorable.

My mind wanders back over the evening, and once again, I'm struck by how oddly natural being with the Cullens seems. It's as if Edward and I have been dating for years, rather than just a few days. Since I usually over-think things, I decide to simply let it be, and unfold as it will. I'm happy, buzzed, and in the presence of the most beautiful man I've never known. The best part is that Edward is just as beautiful on the inside as he is outside.

Edward takes my hand and starts pulling me down a hall, and I follow absolutely willingly.

"I hope your mom gave us separate quarters to sleep in. I'd feel really awkward sharing your bed in their house."

His face turns into a mask of utter disappointment. "What?"

I can't hold back my giggles. "Edward, I'm totally kidding! Of course I want to be with you."

His whole body relaxes as he pulls me into his arms. "Let's get you ready for bed, then, naughty girl."

We go into his bathroom together, and brush our teeth simultaneously over his dual sinks. I sense Edward watching me from the mirror and I feel a tad awkward, because I have toothpaste all over my lower face. As I lean over the sink to rinse off my face, I feel Edward sneak up behind me. He presses his erection into my ass and I jump in surprise. He chuckles and leans in to kiss my neck from behind. I towel my face dry, then turn around to face him, suddenly. I press my hand into his hard cock and give him a wicked grin. He slides his hand over mine, pressing down onto his erection even more.

"How about some good loving, birthday boy?"

"That's what I'm talking about, baby."

_He called me baby._

In his bedroom, he slides my cami off while I get to work on his jeans. He hands over one of his illegal kisses, and I begin to moan. I pull away from him, suddenly, clasping my hand over my mouth.

"Oh god, I wasn't thinking—what if your parents hear us? I don't know if I can keep my moans to a minimum here, Edward."

"They're going to be too busy making their own noise to even notice, I promise you."

That's about the sweetest, most amazing thing I've ever heard. "God, I hope I'm like that when I'm their age. Unable to take my hands off my partner."

"I'm certainly hoping you never take your hands off me, no matter how old you are."

**END NOTE: Thank you to everyone who participated in FGB, not only in my auction, but also in all of them. Combating children's cancer is a cause near and dear to my nursie heart.**

**If you're interested in the homemade Hob Nobs recipe, it is posted on my LJ page: kimpy0464(dot)livejournal(dot)com . BE WARNED my LJ is totally NSFW!**

**Also, thank you to everyone who has favorited this story, put it on alert, and left such kind reviews. Your support and encouragement is overwhelming, and I appreciate it so much. 3**


	15. Keep Calm and Carry On

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: The color ciel blue is mentioned in this chapter. It is the universal gray-blue color for medical scrubs.**

**Glycerin suppositories and miralax are mentioned in this chapter. They are frequently used in the hospital setting to ensure patients don't get too "stopped up" during their stay, and are ordered on an as needed basis, or PRN, to be given at the nurse's discretion. **

**A special shoutout to Breaking Aurora for her 34****th**** birthday.**

**TwilightMundi and BoobooKitty both have hidden references in this chapter; they know what they are.**

**Things I own: An interview clip with Rob saying "Bellar." It is on my LJ page and makes me squee whenever I listen to it.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to Ladyeire72 for her pre-reading and helpful comment. She always takes one for the team and is such an enthusiastic supporter of this story.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who brings her naughty sparkle to my chapters every time. **

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON**

It's Edward's birthday, but somehow, I'm the one who gets the gifts. This stunning man with the perfect cock only wants for me to be rendered senseless by his efforts. I keep trying to protest that this should be about him, but he simply won't allow it.

Edward Cullen is the most considerate lover I've ever experienced. He won't dream of leaving me unsatisfied; it would be like a personal affront to him. He refuses to have sex with me until I have at least one orgasm beforehand. I feel a little guilty about that, but he won't hear of any other way. I'm certainly not going to argue with him.

"If I had my way, I'd have sex every day. At least once. It's almost like a necessity," I confess.

"How long has it been since you've been with someone?"

"Far too long, but I got tired of just getting laid. I'd rather get myself off than leave it to any old yahoo."

"Well, that's probably because you were relying upon an old yahoo to help you out," he smirks, his crimples escaping just enough to leave me dazzled. He leans in to give me a deep kiss, and my body is instantly alight.

Suddenly, I'm no longer interested in talking. "Remember your fortune cookie from Leavenworth? Show me just how talented your hands are, Dr. Cullen."

"Gladly, and you get to work on those imaginative skills of yours while you're at it."

"Well, your kisses leave me breathless and your hands light me on fire, so I'll try to maintain some type of brain function while all that is going on. It won't be easy."

"I can always stop and let you collect your thoughts for a moment."

I pull him to me by the belt loops on his jeans. "Don't you _dare_ stop, Cullen."

I'm shirtless, and Edward's jeans are unbuttoned, but they are still mysteriously on his body. I decide this needs to be remedied at once. I slide my hand underneath his boxers, skimming lightly over his erection. It jumps at my contact, and Edward moans. I slide my hands along the elastic waist to his butt. As I grip his cheeks, I feel goose bumps erupt over his skin. I pull myself in close, nuzzling my face in his chest hair. With his ass in my hands, his hard cock pressed against me, and his scent tickling my nose, I simply want to stay in the moment, forever. Invariably, however, Edward has other ideas. He starts to thrust his hips into me, his cock hungry for some friction.

I swiftly pull his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving him naked before me. I don't think I will ever get over the extreme rush I experience whenever I see his penis, bare and exposed. I've said this before, and I will undoubtedly be repeating it as a mantra for the rest of my life—Edward Cullen has the most perfect penis. It fucking takes my breath away, every time. I feel like I went to the Build-A-Bear workshop, only it had been renamed Build-A-Penis. I entered in my own personal specifications for a specially wrapped package. _Edward's package_. Edward's package that I will be uniquely responsible for worshipping. The length, the girth, the parka coverage—it is absolutely, positively, exactly what the perfect penis has always looked like in my mind.

In an instant, I realize that all I need is to have that cock in my mouth. I grab his hands and pull him over to his bed, then push him down. Being happily buzzed, he collapses surprisingly easily. I notice that somehow I still have my skirt on, so I turn around and unzip it. I'm wearing a thong, and I want him to see it from the back first. I bend over to step out of my skirt, and my efforts are rewarded with a deep groan.

"Fuck, Swan, get your hot little ass over here. STAT!"

Edward using medical terms while we sex it up is ten shades of fuckhot. I look over my shoulder at him, and find a goofy, happy grin plastered on his face. He still takes my breath away.

In mere seconds, I pounce on top of him on all fours. His hands are instantly on my ass, feeling my bare cheeks.

"You are the hottest little vixen I have ever known, Bella Swan, and I want to fuck the living daylights out of you."

"That sounds great and all, but I have other ideas in mind."

"What the fuck?" He says, miserably frustrated.

"Edward, it involves your perfectly shaped cock and my mouth. I'm thinking you won't be bothered by that combination."

He gives me an adorable, drunken smirk. "No, that won't bother me. As long as I still get to fuck you later."

"Yes, I'm sure that can be arr—OOH!"

_That sneaky little fucker just twisted both of my barbells!_

"Cullen, that was very naughty of you!"

"Well, what do you do to naughty boys?"

"Wouldn't you love to know!"

"Yes, I would."

I'm still on all fours, hovering above him. I reach down and wrap my fingers around his deliciously erect penis.

_Trust Cullen to be able to get epically hard even when he's drunk._

"Well, I'm not sure that naughty boys get to come."

He sits up quickly, unexpectedly. Our foreheads bonk together, and suddenly, I'm seeing stars. I fall over onto my side, my hand over my forehead, groaning.

"Fuck, Bella, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?"

I groan a little more. "I think so."

"Let me get you some ice."

"No, Edward, I'm fine. Let it go."

"Come on! I just whacked you in the head!"

"Yeah, I know, and I'd rather you whack something else," I say slyly, reaching out for his cock once again.

"You're like a moth to a flame where my dick is concerned," he says, laughing.

"Dude, you say that like it's a bad thing!"

"So, you don't need ice? Are you sure?"

"Nope, I just need to resume my moth to a flame thing."

"I'm not stopping you. I promise not to whack into you again."

"There you go with the whacking, Cullen. I think you might be trying to get me side tracked or something."

He grabs my hand and places it around his erection. "Get sidetracked here. Now. Got it?"

I start to stroke him up and down, and reach to tug on his balls with my other hand. He's so horny, he's thrusting his hips in time with my strokes. His buzzed state has left him without his usual filter, and I can see he is letting himself get completely lost in the feeling. He's incredibly beautiful, and I can't take my eyes off of him.

I move myself down his body, so that I can take him into my mouth. Before I do so, I slide his foreskin up as far as it will go. I slip my tongue underneath and use my top row of teeth to nibble on him. He gasps in surprise, then groans loudly.

"Fuuuuuuck… so hot."

I remove my tongue, and replace it with my bottom teeth, so that I can use both sets of teeth to intensify my nibbles. His hands are instantly in my hair.

"Baby… fuck me…"

I trade in my nibbles for gliding my hand and mouth up and down his shaft. I notice that Edward thrusts into my mouth using a firm grasp on the back of my head as his anchor.

I gaze up at him, to study his face. His eyes are closed, and he appears to be in complete hedonistic mode—everything about him says _pleasure_. He looks so relaxed, and he definitely has his "O" face on. He suddenly opens his eyes and looks at me. I can't hide my satisfied grin in response to the look I put on his face. That is, I grin as well as one can with a huge cock in their mouth.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything more amazing than your lips around my cock. Jeeesus, you make me so hard."

His words cause me to moan in response. It makes him even harder and I love knowing that I can do this to him. He's so overwhelmingly handsome, smart, and amazing; the idea that I can make his cock hard, that I can deliver incredible sexual pleasure to him, is almost unreal.

"If you keep that moaning up, I'm not going to be able to last, you know."

I simply hum in response. I'm not going anywhere. I give the base of his erection a very firm squeeze.

"FUCK!"

I might be feeling a tad smug at the moment; I made Dr. Edward Cullen scream obscenities when his cock was in my mouth!

His breathing becomes faster and shallower; he's panting. I get a sudden burst of inspiration.

Without stopping my motion, I reach my fingers up to his mouth and slide them inside. He understands that I want him to suck on them. While I have an ulterior motive for this action, I'm unexpectedly turned on by the sensation of his tongue wrapped around my fingers. I'm incredibly worked up just from giving him head.

Before he has time to suspect what I'm up to, I slip my fingers out of his mouth. I move my pointer finger below his balls, lightly running my fingertip over the sensitive skin.

"Shit! Jesus, so… so fuck… good…"

I don't even have time to slip my fingertip inside of him before he comes, and I willingly swallow what he gives me.

Somehow, in the midst of our activities, we wound up lying diagonally across his bed. I crawl up his body and cuddle into his side, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

"Swan, where the hell did you learn how to give blowjobs like that? You're a fucking expert. I've never been fingered before, and that was stellar."

I smile, proud that I could make him get so carried away. There's nothing better than pleasing your partner so fully, especially when your partner is Dr. Fuckhot Cullen.

Edward gets up to relieve himself, and I doze off. The next thing I know, I feel something wet and warm in my girlie bits, and I give out a startled scream.

When I open my eyes, I see a devilish grin on Edward's face, and his tongue moving gently over my lower lips. Apparently, his tongue is as long as his fingers and it nearly makes my eyes roll back in my head. This man has serious sex skills! He gives me some playful nips along my lips, and it stings, but in a good way. Before I know it, he's nibbling my clit, too, in between circling the tip of his tongue over it. I've never felt anything this arousing before.

He pauses for a moment, in order to give me a command. "Could you play with your nipples for me while I go to work down here?"

In a split second, my hands obey.

"Good girl," he purrs to me.

I start to wiggle my hips from side to side, reminding him that my kitty is in need of his attention once again.

"You keep that up, and we'll be done for the night," he says, giving me a hard look.

_Fuck, it is so erotic when he gets all stern with me!_

I bite my lower lip and stop the wiggling. He takes my clit between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it. Again, no one's ever done that to me before, but it is such a turn on. I had no idea something like that could feel so pleasurable. I let out a combination moan/whimper, and Edward gets a very satisfied look on his face.

"You like that, hmm?"

I'm too wound up to have use of my vocal cords. I simply nod my head up and down, using quick little motions. I don't want anything to distract me from the activity in my southern hemisphere.

He goes back to licking me up, down, sideways, longways, shortways, and roundways. In fact, I lose track of all the ways. All that I really care about is that his mouth is on me, and I never want it to end.

All too soon, he stops once again. "Bella, nipples. If I'm going to do my job, you need to do yours."

_Oh. Right. Nipples. Yes, I'll get right on that._

Once he is satisfied that I'm working my nipples again, he shifts so that his mouth is over my clit, and his long, elegant, talented fingers slip inside me. If I didn't know better, I would swear that each of those beautiful fingers contain Harry Potter's wand, because they are fucking magical. He reaches my g-spot by merely crooking his fingers a bit; every other lover I've had can never really find it. But Edward? He not only zeroes in on it, he works it like a professional.

_Damn, I'm never letting him throw away that talented hands fortune._

Between the wand-fingers and long tongue, I'm so worked up I can't breathe right. I open my eyes, and the mere sight of his mouth on my pussy unleashes the wave I've been waiting for. I let go in a way I never have before, totally lost in the moment. I'm pretty sure I screamed out some inappropriate things that I'll be embarrassed about in the morning, but the feeling I have is so glorious I don't give a flying fuck.

I think back to his whisper in my ear from yesterday morning, _Orgasms served twice daily or on demand, 24/7_. I'm so not leaving this man's bed. _EVER_.

"Cullen, you're a fucking rock star of sex, did you know that?"

"Just trying to keep the customers satisfied."

"I'm not going to be asking for any refunds, I can tell you that right now."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

I pull him up to me and we weave ourselves together as closely as possible. My last thought before I fall asleep is that there is nothing better in the world than being naked and tangled together with Edward Cullen.

**~xXx~**

I awake in the morning to find Edward licking the sole of my foot. I'm half asleep as I feel the moisture, and I start to giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"You're tickling my foot."

"Um, no, I'm not."

In my sleepy haze, I realize that Edward cannot lick my foot and speak at the same time. I scream and sit up all at once.

"What, Bella?" Edward is instantly at my side.

Darcy peers at me from the foot of the bed with his innocent looking face. He was licking my foot. As I watch him, he sneakily sticks his tongue out again, licking my other foot.

Edward and I turn our faces to each other, and start cracking up.

"Oh, I guess I should have warned you. The dogs always come in to wake me up. It's either a lick, or a cold nose in your face."

Edward snakes his hands around me and pulls me in close. Apparently, the dogs woke _everyone_ up; his erection proudly makes its presence known against my thigh.

"You know, I seem to recall mentioning that I was going to fuck the living daylights out of you. I never got to do that."

"No, but you did appear to enjoy the hummer I doled out."

"Hell yes, I did. My dick is just a little disappointed he didn't get to say hello kitty last night."

"You can say hello kitty whenever you want, Cullen. I'm giving you a carte blanche."

Wasting no time, he turns me onto my back while coming to rest on top of me. "You really shouldn't have said that," he says with a smug grin plastered on his face.

I bend my knees up so that his erection lands right where it needs to be. I grasp his shaft, rubbing it over my wet lips before positioning the head at my entrance. With a small thrust of his hips, he slowly enters me.

"I'll never get tired of the feeling of sliding into you," he whispers in my ear, in his rough, scratchy morning voice.

"I'll never get tired of you sliding into me. It's the best."

I turn my head just slightly; we're cheek to cheek, and I inhale his scent from just below his ear. He lifts his head slightly to look me in the eyes. Neither of us says a word—we just gaze at each other, mesmerized, simply feeling the amazing pleasure of our bodies moving together. I still can't believe that I get to have sex with this man.

I think one of my favorite things about Edward Cullen is that he has this innocent little boy side to him that is sweet, adorable and so charming. While his face, hair, and body scream out sex machine, it's almost as if he doesn't realize it. He still acts impulsively, and you can just see the boyish charm in him. He approaches the world from a child's perspective of wonder and awe, and it's hard not to get sucked in by it all. How many men can look like ubersex, but then turn around and be so boyish? I think it is what endears him to me more than anything.

Oh, what the hell am I talking about? His penis is god, and the rest ain't too shabby either.

He pulls one of my knees up in order to penetrate me more deeply, and the sudden change is so intense, I gasp.

He is instantly concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm _very_ all right. That was a good gasp."

"I like good gasps."

"Me too.

He picks up where he left off, with that marvelously deep penetration, and he catches me by surprise once again when he takes one of my nipples between his fingers. He just gives the barbell very slight twist and tug, but I feel it all the way down to my clit. He keeps twisting and tugging, slowly, timing it with his thrusts, and it's getting me all kinds of excited.

"Jesus… fuck… come…" Edward has my brain incapable of uttering more than monosyllabic words.

"Yes, come… soon. Need you…"

My orgasm explodes suddenly, unexpectedly. I'm practically thrashing, I'm so in the moment, like an out of body experience. There's something that's so intense about having an orgasm while your partner is deep inside of you; coming all around him magnifies the orgasm significantly.

Before I'm even done, I feel Edward thrust more deeply, letting out a huge groan that is so fucking sexy. I love that his groan is for me.

He looks up at me, eyes full of wonder and satisfaction, when I should be the one with that look on my face.

"I love… that," I catch myself.

_How the hell did I almost let that slip out?_

He gives me a crooked grin. "Me, too. It's never been this good for me, Bella. Honestly."

"How is that even possible? You're so amazing."

"Because it's you. You make me amazing, if I even am. No other body excites me like yours; I feel like my cock is forever beholden to your luscious pussy. No one has ever been able to handle me with such finesse."

"Because of your parka, you mean?"

"Well, yeah, that, but also, just in general. It's like you can sense what I need or what I want. I don't even have to tell you."

"I'm simply going with my intuition. I have no other guide."

"I don't care what it is—I just care that it's you."

I pause for a moment; there's something I need to get off my chest, out into the open.

"I'm not sure exactly how to describe what is going on between us, but this feels like more than just a fling to me, Edward. I've never felt like this before, to be honest. I'm worried and concerned about our intensity once we move back into the workplace. We've always worked so well together, and I don't want any of that to change now that we've become intimate with each other. I'd like to try to cool it at work, at least, so that everyone doesn't suspect something is going on. You know how fast word travels around the unit—I hate to think of us being the subject of gossip."

"Bella, this is no mere fling, believe me. As attracted as I am to you, and I am very, very attracted to you physically, I fall in love with a _mind_. Beauty is a nice attribute, but if I cannot connect with someone's mind, it's useless for me. Without that, all a person could ever be for me is a good fuck. You mean so much more to me because of your brilliant mind. Whatever makes you the most comfortable is what we will do. I will take my cues from you, all right?" He ends with another kiss to my knuckles, and I erupt in goose bumps from his touch.

"I realize it is only a matter of time, but the longer we can keep it quiet, the better. OK?"

"Okely-dokely."

"Oh god, did you have to invoke the image of Ned Flanders?"

He just laughs at me. "How about we get in the shower so we can get ready for work?"

"Are you on tonight?"

He looks away from me, almost like a kid who got his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

"What, Edward?"

"Well, I kind of arranged for my call schedule to mirror your schedule as closely as possible, so that I could see you more often."

"Can you do that? I thought those schedules were carved out of stone by god himself!"

"It's amazing what flowers and chocolate cake will get you these days."

"You bribed the Director's secretary?"

"Yes, I did," he answers, with a sheepish grin.

_Wow. Edward Cullen wanted to be with me, Isabella Swan, so badly, he bribed the Director's secretary in charge of the Fellow's schedules. I'm impressed._

I lean over and kiss him on the lips. "You're amazing, did you know that?"

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course, anything."

"Do you mind hanging out with me today? And then I can drive you in to work?"

"That's hardly giving you a favor, Cullen. Of course I will."

"All right then. Let's get clean and get some breakfast in our bellies."

He takes my hand and leads me to the shower, where dirty boys try to get clean, but seldom do.

**~xXx~**

It's my turn to be in charge again tonight. It's a lot of work, because you are responsible for how smoothly everything comes together, but you have little authority. No one is ever happy with you. It's definitely in the thankless jobs category.

On the other hand, it's always a challenge, and you're in charge of how things are set up—you do patient assignments, coordinate transfers and admits, plan how many staff will be needed for the unit's census.

While I'm glad I'm not charge nurse every night, it's not so bad every few weeks. Plus, Edward is my Fellow tonight (I have a private chuckle at the irony of that statement), so I know I will be in good hands. Oh, such good hands.

_Brain out of the gutter, Swan. You need to focus on work._

After patient assignments have been made, and I run around to make sure everyone is properly set up, my first task at hand is to go from room to room to collect any narcs that didn't get wasted from the previous shift.

In the ICU, we hand out opiates and benzodiazepenes like they're candy. We know from evidence-based practice that the better we do with controlling a patient's pain, the faster they will heal. Because opiates and benzos are narcotics, federal law mandates that they need to be handled a special way, to ensure they don't get into the wrong hands; they have an incredibly high street value.

Most narcotics are removed from a pharmacy dispensing machine, which tracks the nurse removing the medication, the type of medication, and the frequency with which a medication is removed. If a nurse removes a vial of morphine, for example, they are responsible for ensuring that any unused portion is returned or wasted. There is rarely a time, in pediatrics, when the prescribed dose is the same as the dose contained in the vial. Most often, the nurse will draw up the dose, say 2 mg, and there will be 3 mg remaining in the vial. The leftover amount needs to be accounted for, or it could appear as though the nurse has pocketed the leftovers.

Whenever a nurse administers a narcotic, there always needs to be another nurse witnessing the process. Anything that isn't used as a dose for the patient must be wasted. Essentially, the remainder of the narc is drawn up into a syringe, and the witnessing nurse watches while the other nurse empties the syringe into the sink. Suffice it to say, if a nurse is caught mishandling narcs, she is in jeopardy of losing her nursing license—permanently.

Frequently, however, a shift gets so busy that a nurse doesn't have time to track someone down to waste the meds with them. Sometimes, the meds were administered in an emergency, and haven't even been ordered in the medication records. Because of this, narcs can tend to pile up on the unit. One of the informal responsibilities I have as charge nurse is to go from room to room, gathering up the narcs that are leftover, and ensuring that they are properly wasted and accounted for.

I'm just about to start my narc rounds when Jasper comes up to me, ire written clearly all over his face.

"What is it, Jasper? Are you okay?"

"No, I am definitely _not_ okay," he answers me through clenched teeth. "Lauren Mallory gave my patient a glycerin suppository _and_ a dose of miralax."

"Settle down, Whitlock. Jesus. I thought something was really wrong."

"What do you mean, _really_ wrong? Dude, she totally made my kid poop on purpose! This is a poop conspiracy of the highest magnitude, and it's just wrong. WRONG, I say!"

I roll my eyes at his hyperbole. "A poop conspiracy? What, you want me to call in investigative reporters?"

"Come on, Swan! You know she did it on purpose!"

"Yeah, and…? I can't put the poop back in the kid! There's nothing that can be done."

"You have to at least tell our manager about it. Seriously, it's not okay to do that kind of shit."

I may be stoking my inner 12-year old boy, but I start to giggle over the fact that Jasper is complaining about a poop conspiracy, and then saying Lauren can't pull that kind of shit.

"Oh, really? Nice. Very professional."

"Don't even get me started! You're the one complaining about poop conspiracies, after all."

Jasper continues to cross his arms and give me his best version of the stink eye.

"Look, I promise the next time I see her, I will talk to her about it, okay? This will never be resolved to your satisfaction, but I'll at least make sure it gets addressed."

"Thanks," he says, grudgingly. "I swear to god, she did this on purpose."

"Well, it won't be the first or last time that ever happens. That's just the way it is."

"Two words: Poop. Consipiracy."

I snort out loud as I giggle; Jasper flips me the bird and swiftly returns to his room, totally unsatisfied with my response.

I turn to continue down the hall, when I feel someone grab my shoulders and haul me away. Before I even have time to react, I find myself pulled into a closet.

"Even when I see you from behind, you taunt me with that little ass of yours. You're driving me crazy and you don't even realize it."

I take a look around at my surroundings, and a small smile forms on my face.

_I wonder if this is the closet where Carlisle and Esme professed their love to each other..._

"What's with the grin, Swan?"

Does he even know the part the closet played in his life? Like, as in had the closet not been there, would he?

"Oh, nothing. Glad to see you."

"You wore those scrubs on purpose, didn't you?"

"Edward, they're scrubs. Seriously, no one looks good in them. Except you, of course."

I hear him groan out something that sounds like "jesus-fucking-christ-have-mercy-syringes-in-her-hand_._"

"Uh, what?"

His jaw is tense. "Syringes."

I look at my hand. It is full of empty syringes for wasting narcs.

"Yes, I have syringes in my hand. You may have heard of them before."

"Bella, you have no idea what it does to me when I see you with a syringe in your hand now! I'm like Pavlov's dog around you—syringe in hand, I'm instantly hard. I think you need to pay for what you've turned me into."

"Oh you do, huh? What about you, Commando Boy? I see the color ciel blue on you, I need to clench my thighs together! Jesus, you aren't right now, are you?"

He breaks into his trademark crimples. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Dammit, Cullen! I thought we were going to try to cool it at work! I can't concentrate knowing you're commando!"

"Well, look at you! Syringes in your hand, hot little ass in your scrubs, driving me nuts."

Before I even register what's happening, our lips are attacking each other, like we've never kissed before. Like we didn't just have a massive make out session before we got to work. His mouth feels so good on mine—I don't have it in me to stop.

Suddenly, the doorknob moves and I let out a loud squeak. I quickly jump away from Edward and pretend to be doing anything that is not directly involved in our bodies touching each other. Edward pulls out his pager, pretending he just received a page. The NA walks in, looking at both of us. Edward darts out the door, saying a quick, "I need to answer this page. I'll talk to you later, Swan."

_Oooh, he is so going to pay for that!_

I blush and look at the NA. I meekly hold up the syringes. "Had to track down syringes for narc wasting!" I say lamely.

"Um, Bella, the syringes are located in the med room. Is that a bruise on your forehead, by the way? "

"What? A bruise?"

She pokes at it. "Yeah, right there."

Oh my god, I have a bruise where Edward and I bonked heads last night!

"Oh, hmm. I guess I do," I say, as I speedily make my escape.

_What was I thinking—there is no way I can pretend I'm not head over heels in lust with Edward A. Cullen, M.D.! I'm a terrible liar._

**~xXx~**

As I move from room to room, I keep hearing the same thing: There are no narcs to waste, because Lauren already did it at the end of the other shift.

_Huh. That's… weird._

Jessica Stanley hunts me down; she needs to get her timecard signed because she had to stay late to finish charting. I haven't seen her since she passed out, and if I'm being kind, I'll say she looks like shit.

"Hey, Jessica! How are you feeling? Last time I saw you, you seemed to be a bit green."

She gives me an awkward, uncomfortable smile. I didn't mean to make her feel bad; I was merely trying to break the ice. I mean, what do you say to someone when you've recently resuscitated them?

She looks both ways to see if anyone else is around, then whispers, "Do you have a minute, Bella?"

"Of course, Jess. Let's go into room 2; I know it's empty."

"Thanks."

We walk unnoticed to room 2, and I shut the door behind us.

"What's up? How can I help you?"

"I know I was really out of it the last time I saw you. I was just wondering if I, uh, said anything weird to you when I was unconscious."

"Jess, you were unconscious. You couldn't say anything."

"Well, yeah, I guess the part from before I was unconscious."

"You were mumbling, but nothing that really made any sense."

Her eyes dart up to mine. "Are you positive about that, Bella?"

"Yes. I'm sure Dr. Cullen would say the same thing. He was there, too. You can ask him."

"I just don't want Lauren to be pissed off at me."

"Why would she be mad? Jess, you were so drunk that you passed out; she's your best friend. I would think she'd be concerned about your welfare, not mad about something you said when you were unconscious."

"I don't know; she was acting weird all day today. It kind of creeped me out."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"I guess not."

_Why does she look so reluctant?_

"How much did you have to drink, Jessica? I'm really worried about you."

"I swear to god, Bella, I really didn't drink much. It was Lauren's booze, and she filled up my glass. I don't think I had more than two."

_Yeah, that's what they all say._

"I don't understand how that could make you so out of it, though."

"I know, right? It doesn't make sense. The tox screen said I had taken benzos."

"WHAT? Are you an idiot, Jessica? You could have died, you know! You can't mix benzos with booze!"

She rolls her eyes. "Duh, Bella, I am a nurse! The thing is, I didn't take any benzos."

"Then how did they get there?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Beats me."

It seems like she's trying to act cavalier, but something is off in her expression. She has a muscle tension in her face that isn't usually there.

"At the very least, I recommend that you pour your own drinks from now on."

"No shit, Sherlock. Please do me a favor—can you not mention to Lauren that we talked? I think it would really piss her off."

"Sure, Jess. Not a problem."

She gives me a half-hearted smile. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

_Huh…that's also weird. What the hell is going on?_

**~xXx~**

My conversation with Jessica is in the front of my mind all night. I know she's probably lying about mixing benzos with booze, or with the amount of booze she drank, or something. People don't become unconscious that easily. Yes, Jessica and Lauren are at every party, but they certainly haven't appeared to be problem drinkers in the past.

I start to piece a few things together. First of all, Lauren being conscientious about wasting narcs is suspicious in and of itself. Lauren Mallory has never done a thing for another human besides herself, unless she has to, because it's a patient. Whenever I follow her, it's like a tornado hit the patient's room.

Second, there's the whole weirdness with Jessica. Why would she be all concerned about what she said when she was nearly dead? Yes, I did think she was saying "Ativan," but she could have been mumbling nonsense for all I know. She seems scared of Lauren, and that's new.

I have a few syringes of narcs to waste, and I'm looking for someone to verify it with me. Suddenly, I have a flash of inspiration.

_Ativan. Jessica said Ativan when she was nearly comatose, as if it was important for her to say. Of all the words for her to say, she chose Ativan._

_How did Jess get so drunk, if she still insists she didn't drink anything much?_

_Why is Lauren suddenly concerned about wasting narcs?_

_Oh my fucking god. Lauren Mallory is stealing narcs! _

I track down Edward and pull him towards the closet.

"I know you're hot for me Swan, but there's no need to hurry."

"Will you quit thinking about your penis for more than 5 seconds? I have something important to tell you."

His face changes at once; he knows this is serious.

When we are out of range for anyone to overhear us, I spill my theory.

**END NOTES: Two generous readers, AgoodWITCH and litljazzbird, bought one-shots from me during the Fandom Gives Back auction. I will be writing their pieces before the next chapter of The Nightingale Journals posts. I will also be attending Comic Con, but hopefully I will have some down time to write while I'm there. I will do my very best to get the FGB pieces and the next chapter done as soon as I possibly can. Thanks for your patience and support!**


	16. Goodnight, Sweet Prince

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: IMPORTANT WARNING: This chapter is graphic and a patient dies. If you do not want to read that section, you can focus on the first and last portions of the chapter. They are separated by the following: ~xXx~**

**Thank you to everyone for being patient in waiting for this chapter to post. My FGB pieces have all been written, so there is nothing but TNJ on the horizon now.**

**Pyxis is a pharmacy dispensing machine that tracks each med withdrawn for a specific patient, and by which nurse. In order to get into the machine, you need to use your fingerprint ID. It's pretty freaking cool and handy.**

**Things I own: Two tickets to see Muse in Minneapolis with Spawn in October. SQUEE!**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to ladyeire72 and lobsters4ever1 for taking the time and energy to pre-read this chapter. Extra boobie motorboating for you two.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who is one of the best people I know. She pwns my heart. **

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: GOODNIGHT, SWEET PRINCE**

When I pull Edward aside to tell him my suspicion, he watches me carefully, listening to every word. I explain to him about my conversation with Jessica and the benzodiazepenes in her tox screen, and then relate the story about Lauren gathering up all the narcotics.

One of the most serious offenses a nurse can make is stealing drugs; it is an accusation one doesn't make lightly. If found guilty, she would lose her job and her nursing license. Permanently. The double-edged sword for me, however, is that I am obligated, both by Federal law and hospital policy, to report my findings, especially as a charge nurse.

My dad used to always tell me, "Don't come to me with a problem, Bella—come to me with a solution." It was what he always told his deputies and it's great advice. Make it win-win for everyone, and it's much easier for people to adopt your ideas. I decide that if I am going to catch Lauren Mallory—and I do intend to catch her—I need data. Cold, hard, irrefutable data. _That's_ my solution.

Edward looks me straight in the eyes, pondering my evidence.

"So, you didn't actually see her do anything, you just have hearsay right now, correct?"

I sigh in frustration. "Yeah. I know in my gut she's doing it, but I have no direct proof."

"You know that means we're SOL right now."

"I'm aware of that, yes."

"Do you have any way of tracking the narcs she's used, or the ones she wasted?"

"Well, as charge nurse, I can go into any patient's medical record without arousing suspicion, which I can't do as a bedside nurse. I also have to reconcile pyxis at the end of every shift, so I guess I could go in there and see if Lauren actually wasted the narcs, as she claimed."

"That's a great start, and no one will be any the wiser. Can you look through the medical records to see if she actually charted giving the narcs?"

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that. It's a great idea."

"I would check with Alice and Jasper, too, or anyone else you trust implicitly. Tell them to keep their eyes open. You're the smartest woman I know; I'm sure you'll figure it out. I'm here if you need to bounce anything off of me, okay?"

His face and his words are so earnest, I find myself becoming lost in him, as if there is nothing else in the world except the two of us. When he squeezes my arm to give me reassurance, I shiver. Just as he leans over to kiss my forehead, his pager chooses that moment to go off. Mine follows soon afterwards. We look at the message then look at each other.

**~xXx~**

_Shit, it's gonna be bad. Airlift from a community hospital._

Edward and I run to the front desk. Edward takes the doc's call first; I know that shortly after he hangs up, their charge nurse will call me about the admit we're getting. Apparently, a 12 year-old boy was on his way to the ER with his mother, because he had been complaining of abdominal pain for days. When he started to get less coherent, she put him in the car and was en route to the ER when her son slumped over in the back seat and no longer responded to her. She called 911 from the interstate, and started CPR on the side of the road.

He was transported to the nearest community ER, where they determined he had blood pooled in his abdomen. He was immediately brought to the OR so the source of the bleeding could be found. They saw his colon had ruptured, so they quickly patched the kid together enough to get him stabilized, then sent him on to us.

The patient is being airlifted, so we expect him shortly. I quickly make a survey of rooms I have available, and decide room 212 is the best choice. It's private and large, so it can accommodate a number of hospital personnel at once. Something tells me this is going to be a messy and difficult case.

I hate to do this to Jasper, but I need to pull him from his current patient and assign him to the new patient; he's the most skilled nurse I have tonight. Needless to say, GI bleeds are _not_ Jasper Whitlock's favorite—it's one of those things you can diagnose with your nose. It's like rotavirus—the stench is unmistakable. Poop is one thing—it stinks, but you can usually deal with it. Bloody poop is entirely something else—you cannot get rid of the stench, no matter what.

"Whitlock, I need you to take our admit who's being airlifted."

"Sure, give me the specifics."

I explain the case to him, and like the trooper he is, his expression belies what he is most likely thinking to himself. I know that he loves a good challenge and the fact that this kid is quite unstable is in my favor here. Still, he never misses an opportunity to razz me.

"So, you're switching me from one shitty patient to another, huh?" He says, smirking. While levity at a moment like this might seem inappropriate, it's one of the only ways we have to cope with otherwise tragic situations.

"I know how much you love to wallow in the mire, Whitlock. At least you will no longer be with the gassy kid Lauren created for you."

"Dude, smells trump sounds any day and this kid will have both. Just saying. You owe me, big time. I might need to make you pay in brownies."

"If brownies is your price, I will gladly make them for you, Jazz. I'm easy."

"That's what she said."

Edward's face turns equally as bright red as my own.

"Shut it!" I hiss at him as quietly as possible, so as not to attract attention.

"No one heard me. Your secret is still safe," he counters, waggling his eyebrows.

We all shift into serious business mode as we await our arrival. I check to make sure the room is set up properly, and run to pyxis to grab any emergency meds we might need. In all likelihood, our patient will end up getting intubated, among other things. I also make sure the intubation and code carts are stationed outside the room, just in case.

Edward, Jasper and I huddle to determine a game plan. I glance at my watch, noting it is just after 4 AM.

_Shit._

If we need an MRI, ultrasound, or emergency surgery, we're going to have to page the techs on call; things just don't move as quickly as they do during the day. It's one of the cost-saving measures the hospital adopted in the last year, because there is so much down time on the night shift. The downside to that is that patients sometimes cannot get the services they need as emergently as they require them. The longer a critically ill patient has to wait to be diagnosed or stabilized, the greater the likelihood of death. The three of us understand this inherently, and we share the same grim face.

We hear the telltale beep of the door alarm, signaling to us that someone needs to enter the unit. Our patient is here.

I grab facemasks with safety shields, and Edward dons his safety goggles. They look like a pair of Ray Bans, except with clear lenses.

_I'm going straight to hell for focusing on how hot he looks in safety goggles at a moment like this._

I glance up at the EMTs wheeling in the rig, and notice that they're bagging the kid. Without a second thought, I wheel the intubation cart into the room and yell to the EMT.

"What's the kid's dry weight?"

"48 kilos."

I quickly turn to Jasper.

"Whitlock! Draw up some atropine and vec."

Before I can say anything more, Edward is at the intubation cart, grabbing several sizes of endotracheal tubes and a scope. That's precisely what I was going to focus my attention on next, and it's satisfying to know that we're of one mind at the moment. I fucking hate it when I'm working with a doc who is indecisive in an emergency, or one who expects me to do everything. Some docs refuse to find their own supplies, even in situations like this one. Clearly, Edward isn't in that camp, thank goodness.

I shout out to the EMT again. "What kind of access do we have?"

"There's a left antecubital PIV and a right tib IO."

In emergencies, sometimes it is necessary to use an intraosseous needle, or IO. It is a large, heavy needle that is screwed directly into a bone, reaching the marrow, to obtain a central line quickly. We don't see these often, only in patients who are critically ill and very unstable during transport.

I don't even have to tell Jasper which IV to use—he heads straight for the IO. It's the fastest, most effective way to get meds into the patient.

Jasper looks up at Edward. "Cullen, I'm ready with the meds when you are."

We move the patient from his litter to the bed, and our respiratory therapist takes over bagging him while we get ready to intubate.

A number of things happen at once, as is always the case in an emergency. While Edward works on getting the patient intubated and Jasper assists, I get report from the EMTs and sign their paperwork. Our NST pages the blood bank and X-Ray. Alice left her patient with another nurse and works on taking vital signs. There are about ten people in the room, each performing a special function that is vital to keep the patient alive and to get him stabilized. It's amazing to me how things can be so coordinated without anyone giving direct orders, aside from Edward telling Jasper which meds he needs to give the patient. It is just another affirmation that I would implicitly trust any of these people with my life.

Once the patient is successfully intubated and on a ventilator, Jasper gets busy drawing labs. They'll give us a good indicator of just how sick our boy is. Alice tells us that the patient's blood pressure is critically low, and that his temperature is only 95.

Using a calm, no-nonsense tone, Edward tells us, "Well, he isn't dead until he's warm and dead. Let's get some warm IV fluids in him and some warm blankets." It sounds harsh, but it is an effective way to let everyone in the room know that our patient is in critical condition and where to direct our efforts. The NST returns with the blankets and IV fluids, which I hang and hand over to Jasper.

The lab tech surfaces, handing me a slip of paper that highlights the critical lab values. I read it off to Edward. He has his stethoscope in one ear, assessing the patient, while he listens to me.

"pH is 7.19, pCO2 45, pO2 25, bicarb 20. Hemoglobin is 5. WBC 42. Platelets 112."

Edward stands back and looks at the patient's heart rate and blood pressure on the monitor. "Jasper, cycle the blood pressure for every five minutes please."

The kid's blood pressure is low, his heart rate is high, and he feels like a block of ice. Before I have the chance, Edward voices my thoughts.

"Shit. That's worse than I thought. This kid is already septic."

With a bowel perforation, massive amounts of bacteria are released into the abdomen. It is a moist, dark, warm environment, the perfect place to incubate an infection. Once the infection takes hold, it easily moves to the bloodstream, where it infects the entire body. The result is septic shock and a patient can die quickly and easily once the systemic infection sets in. I know things aren't looking good for our boy, because we haven't given him any sedation, and he is minimally responsive to all of our poking and prodding.

The patient has a dressing over his abdomen, the site of his emergency surgery. It is becoming saturated, so Edward removes it to take a peek underneath. We are instantly hit with a waft of blood mingled with feces and infection. The site was stapled shut, but it's barely holding things together. Blood seems to be pouring out.

"_Fuck!_ Swan, begin massive transfusion protocol."

Oh, hell. In all my time here in the PICU, I've only been involved in one massive transfusion protocol. It is only activated in rare emergencies where a patient is in danger of bleeding out the entire contents of their body. We basically keep transfusing the patient until they either stabilize or die. Obviously, we hope they stabilize, but that is not a likely scenario for our boy.

Our NST, Maggie, is working her way through nursing school, and she's a phenomenal support person. I barely even glance at her, and she's getting herself ready to run to the blood bank. Within minutes, she returns with a cooler in her hands.

I start grabbing units of blood while Maggie helps me double check everything. We can't hang a unit of blood without making sure the patient's medical record and information match the label on the blood, and that it is the correct blood type. It's the best defense we have against transfusion reactions. The last thing our septic kid needs is the wrong type of blood.

Alice grabs the checked blood, a unit at a time, and hands it off to Jasper. We're running the blood in "wide open," which essentially means we're squeezing it into the patient as quickly as possible. It will help us get more volume into the patient's bloodstream, which will increase the blood pressure and decrease the heart rate, helping us to stabilize him. In addition, it will replace the blood he's lost and help to stop his internal bleeding. We can barely keep up; he's losing blood as fast as we're pushing it in.

Once Alice grabs the last unit, Maggie is back on her feet, running to get more. I take a moment to glance into the room, and I see Edward and Jasper get bathed in blood. Clearly, the patient's operation site just blew open; the staples must have given way.

I run to the bedside cart and grab packages of gauze. I hand it off to Edward wordlessly, so he can use it to pack the wound and apply pressure to the site that's bleeding.

"Call the OR team, STAT! We need them to get in here to repair the rupture!"

I glance at the clock—5:30 AM. During emergencies, I always try to be cognizant of the time, because inevitably, someone is going to need to know what happened and when. I make a mental note of it, glad to see that it is not too early for the OR team to be in house now. I grab my internal phone and page the team. They know if I'm calling them to a patient's bedside, it is under grave circumstances. Within minutes, they are rushing through the unit to room 212.

"Maggie, grab the procedure cart for the OR team!" I yell at her.

I hurry into the room, and it looks like a fucking scene from the _Dexter_ set. There is blood _everywhere_ and the stench is nearly overwhelming_._

"We've had a massive transfusion protocol in effect for about 45 minutes," Edward tells the OR team. "Whitlock, how many units have we transfused?"

"18."

The surgeon, Dr. Eleazar, nods. "Keep transfusing."

Edward continues to give the surgeon all the details of what we've accomplished before they arrived, while the OR team works on prepping the patient.

Dr. Eleazar removes the external staples then looks inside. "_Jesus!_ The bowel is necrotic! What the hell did they do? It looks like Jack the Ripper was in here!"

At the same moment, the patient's heart rate starts to decrease, and there is no diastolic pressure picking up, most likely because it is so low it cannot be measured. That's a very bad sign.

"Push the blood faster!"

"I can't or I'll lose the IV!" Jasper shouts in reply.

"Do it now, or we'll lose the patient! Fuck the IV!"

Alice and I scramble to get more blood to Jasper. Everyone is suddenly talking and moving at once.

"Give 0.50 of epi!"

I draw it up and hand it off to Jasper. "Epi's in!"

There's no change in the heart rate or blood pressure.

"Give another dose of epi and a dose of calcium, and push that blood, goddammit!"

"We're pushing it as fast as we can! Epi's in."

The surgeon clamps the bowel to see if it will help to stabilize the patient. No change.

"Heart rate is down to 42! There's still no diastolic!" Jasper informs us.

Edward tells Jasper to start chest compressions.

I page the nursing supervisor for the hospital, who needs to be informed whenever death is imminent. I know which way this is going to go, and I'm simply going through the motions at this point.

In the background, I hear voices yelling drug names, procedures, and curse words. The specific words they utter are of no consequence; they're fighting a losing battle, but no one wants to be the one to give up.

I glance up at the clock again, and notice it's already 6:45. I should be preparing for report; most of the day team is already here, preparing for their assignments. Coding around shift change has the worst outcome for patients—their likelihood of death increases substantially.

_I wonder who is going to be the one to call it. _

I hear Edward's voice ring out. "Everybody, hands off the patient. Now!"

I glance in the room, and everyone has their hands in the air. Their eyes are pasted to the monitor. I can hear the blood pressure cuff cycling, unable to find a pressure, so it simply keeps trying.

"Damn. I'm calling it. Time of death, 6:48 AM."

The surgery team removes their masks and gloves and departs silently. Alice helps Jasper start to clean up the wrappers and medical waste that litters the floor. I document everything we did since the patient's arrival, so that Jasper can include it in the patient's chart.

As I'm writing, it dawns on me that the patient's parents haven't even arrived yet. They had to drive in to the hospital separately, because there was no room in the helicopter. The thought makes my stomach clench and I reach down to hug my stomach unconsciously.

In my peripheral vision, I can see Edward moving towards me. I turn to look at him, and I see it. Written in the lines on his face, in the defeat of his eyes, in the tight lines of his lips.

_He thinks this is his fault. He's blaming himself._

I walk over to him, concerned. I reach out to squeeze his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. This sucks. You know this was the only possible outcome, though, right?"

He speaks in a voice that is both detached and drained. "I'm always worried that some day, someone is going to figure out that I really don't know what the hell I'm doing, that all this confidence I have is false. People look up to me in emergencies, but I never feel as though I truly have the answer. I just rely upon my gut instincts and go for it. I'm nothing more than a master at pretending."

"Edward, that is pure and fucking bullshit. You managed yourself like an attending doc in there—no one was helping you, you did it all on your own. There isn't anything you could have done differently, and you know it. You performed heroically."

"Bella, I'm no hero; I'm the bad guy. The good guy would have saved that poor damn kid. The good guy would have known what to do."

Just what is it, exactly, that convinces men who are good to their core that they're bad, while the bad men never stop to consider their utter worthlessness? For me, it is one of the grand ironies of life. When someone like Dr. Edward Cullen considers himself to be the bad guy, it's nothing short of extreme absurdity.

Dr. McCarty walks into the room; he must have heard about the code. As the attending for this week, he needs to get the specifics from Edward. I understand that our conversation is over for the time being.

There is so much paperwork to complete following a death that I know I'm going to be here for at least another hour. I sigh deeply and make my way to one of our empty rooms so I have a quiet place to finish my work. Suddenly, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, causing me to start.

I hear Edward's tired voice. "I know this is asking a lot, but will you come home with me once you're done? I have a few things to do, too, and I need to talk to the parents, once they get here."

He looks so sad and dejected; I've never seen that look on his face, and I don't like it.

"I'm going to be honest with you… I feel exhausted, dirty, and disgusting. The last thing on my mind right now is getting lucky," I hate uttering these words, because I would love to smooth away the sadness from his face, but I simply cannot. I'm spent.

"No, Bella, that isn't what this is about. I just need to be with you, feel your soft body next to me. I simply need you to remind me that there are good things in this world, even when we deal with dying children day in and day out."

Edward wants to _sleep_ with me? I answer without even pausing.

"I think that sounds perfect. I'd be happy to."

As I finish my paperwork and hand it off to the new charge nurse, I can see Edward is still talking to the parents; I can only imagine how hard that must be. My heart clenches in time with the mother's sobs and wails. It makes me sick to my stomach to know that she has to see her son in that bloody mess of a room. I know Jasper and Alice cleaned it up to the best of their ability, but they can only do so much. Environmental Services needs to come up and decontaminate the room.

I feel a bit antsy, like I always do following an hours-long adrenaline rush, but I'm mentally exhausted at the same time. Impulsively, I decide to write about my experience to see if I can settle my mind.

_Watch out, folks—the Nightingale is back._

**~xXx~**

We go to Edward's loft, because it is closer to the hospital. Since we both stayed so late, we need to get as much sleep as possible.

Typically, I don't drink after a shift, but today, I need to. I'm exhausted and drained, and my mind tends to replay disturbing images on a feedback loop when I'm in this condition.

Just as I'm getting ready to ask about a drink, I see Edward approach with some tequila and shot glasses. Clearly, we're on the same page.

"I was just going to ask you for that!"

"Great minds, Swan."

He pours a shot for us, and we slam them. We sit there in silence, both of us trying to shake off the effects of the last thirteen hours. Dealing with a colleague who is potentially stealing narcs _and_ a nasty death is just too much.

"Hit me again, please."

"Hell fucking yes."

He pours another round. We tip them into our mouths simultaneously, and sit wordlessly, processing our thoughts.

"Let's take a shower and get all this shit off of us before we go to bed, okay?"

He gives me a tired smirk and nods his head. We aren't capable of complex conversation at the moment. We get up and walk to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and then grabs a towel for me.

"Do you have an old t-shirt I can borrow?"

"Sure. I'll go grab one. Why don't you go ahead and get started?"

Edward has an amazing shower—the kind that sprays you from either side and on top. It feels like you're in a tropical rainstorm. I step under the nozzle and let the warm water flow over me. It feels divine to my tired and aching frame.

Soon, I hear Edward step into the shower behind me and feel his arms wrap around my body. I wrap my arms over his, soaking in the sensation. We stand there for a few minutes, just relaxing and being close. Eventually, he grabs a washcloth and gently washes me from head to toe. Without trading words, I do the same for him. While the shared shower is both intimate and sensual, there is nothing sexual occurring. It's merely two people enjoying the feel of one another and relaxing together.

He turns off the water and we dry one another off. He gives me a kiss on the top of my head and I feel settled.

We walk over to the bed together. When I lift up the covers, he gives me a decidedly earnest look. "It's much more effective if you're naked. There's something about skin-to-skin contact that is instantly relaxing."

_Yeah, that's what I thought. Sly bastard. _

I slide off my t-shirt, then my panties. His eyes go a little wide, and I can't avoid the grin that breaks over my face. He knows I'm onto him, but his face is utterly unrepentant. So beautiful.

I slip under the covers with him, turning to my side. He instantly snuggles into me, as close as he can possibly get. He wraps his arm around my waist and nuzzles into my wet hair. Call me crazy, but I never would have pegged this uber intelligent, serious business PICU doc as a cuddler. Not that I'm complaining—it's just what I need right now, too. That was the worst shift I've had in ages.

I'm surprised by the fact that his warm, naked body cuddled next to mine _is _relaxing. I honestly thought he was full of shit, but it turns out our doctor knows what he's talking about. It's enough to make me want to ask him to write me orders for PRN spooning, so I can experience this as often as I want to.

I fall asleep in minutes, and sleep straight through until I'm awakened. That _never_ happens—I always wake up a few times when I sleep during the day. I must be extra tired or something; I'm not even wearing my usual earplugs, since I left them at my place.

_Huh_.

Instead of my harsh alarm going off, I'm awakened with a kiss on the cheek and a whisper in my ear.

"Hey beautiful, as much as I enjoy watching you sleep, it's time to get back to the grind."

I could swear I woke up in heaven. If there is an afterlife (and, for me, the jury is still out on that one), everyone's should come equipped with their very own Edward Cullen alarm clock. One that wakes you up and promises to grind.

This revelation is a bit unsettling to me because up until this point, I've been convinced I operate best as a solo artist. Edward is quickly testing all my pre-conceived notions, which is both uncomfortable and disconcerting. Oh, and hot. Naturally.

I sit up and stretch, and Edward's gaze is locked on my tits. I look at him, and notice that he's _very_ happy to see me.

_I guess it's morning wood even if you wake up in the afternoon_._ The Dr. Edward Cullen Alarm Cock._

I reach out and stroke his erection gently, unable to resist it. He moans, cupping his hand around mine, and we work his length in unison. I take his free hand in mine, and place it on my breast. This mutual, gentle touching is far more arousing than I imagined it might be. He leans in, giving me a slow, delicious kiss.

When our lips part, he says, simply, "Shower?"

_Like I'm going to turn that down._

TUESDAY, JUNE 22, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_TEARS_

Last night, a child under my care died. He may have been our patient, but he was also someone's child, and he died under my watch. There was no negligence on my end, I gave him my heart until the very last moment, but he still died. Once again, I was reminded that sometimes, in my job, I watch children die for a living.

What bothers me about this death is that I didn't cry. It wasn't that I tried to hold tears back, so as not to appear weak in front of my colleagues; it was that there were no tears to hold back. It's the same thing every time a patient of mine dies—no tears. Every time, I ask myself, "What the hell kind of person doesn't cry when a child dies? What is wrong with me that I am unable to shed tears?" I worry that I'm somehow emotionally damaged, that my emotional responses are all out of whack, and that I'll never react normally to a grave situation again. Or worse, that I will be able to act with cold, calculating precision under conditions that would cripple a normal person. I mean, really, is this response that far from the regular German soldiers assigned to concentration camps? They were just doing their job—cold, calculating, unfeeling. Jesus, am I as bad as that?

The worst part about this death, aside from the fact that a child died, was that I had to watch a beautiful, honest, capable, intelligent man question his ability as a physician. I could see the turmoil in his expression when he had to call the death. I could hear it in his voice. I watched him swallow his failure and disappointment down like a bitter pill. I watched him doubt himself, and his abilities, because a child who was going to die anyhow just happened to die on his watch. No one else in the room could see what was happening to this man, except for me, because no one knows him quite the way I do; what I saw nearly broke my cold, dead heart.

Some nurses end up as alcoholics, drug addicts, depressed, or overweight. The mind always finds its way to cope, even if it isn't perfect. If the feelings don't get expressed normally, they'll come out abnormally. I worry, week after week, what will my coping mechanism be? If I cannot cry, how will my sorrow escape? You can't keep caring for critically ill children and not suffer grievances in your soul. It all comes with a price. I'm afraid to know what my price will end up to be.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 8:45 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: The Dr. Edward Cullen Alarm Cock was a lovely suggestion by Lobsters4ever1. The "smells trump sounds" is from aciepey. I thank them both for their loyal support of my story.**


	17. Fool Me Once, Shame on You

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: My sincere thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the previous chapter. I was overwhelmed by your support and encouragement, even though it was a very difficult chapter to read. Your reviews and favorites for this story floor me.**

**Many people asked if the case was real, and I felt it should be answered. While many of the specifics were changed, I will tell you that the case was very real. It happened to occur the very first time I was charge nurse on my own, and it scared the hell out of me. The poor patient actually held on for about 48 hours, and I had my two most experienced nurses in the room. We ultimately transfused 63 units of blood. The average twelve year old's body holds about 4-5 litres of blood.**

**Things I own: The **_**Hunger Games**_** trilogy. Just arrived from Amazon this week. I blame Lolashoes and Wearingwords for my new obsession. Seriously, I could barely put the book down long enough to finish writing this chapter.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**The leeches in this chapter are brought to you courtesy of Einfach_Mich and our hilarious twitter conversation about it.**

**Special thanks to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading—she's the one who tells me when I get too technical, so the chapter isn't incredibly dry.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who sometimes thrills my inner geek by sending me pics of her argyle sweaters. **

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FOOL ME ONCE, SHAME ON YOU**

As much as I don't want to let go of the perfect cock in my grip, the shower calls. I also understand that I'm only going to let it go for a brief period of time, after which I will be able to pick up where I left off. Ultimately, that makes it easier to do.

_Mental checklist: Stroke cock in hand. Shower. Get back to grind with Cullen in shower. _

"Do you want to go first?"

_What? First?_

"Um, Cullen, I seem to recall somewhere in the recesses of my mind a promise of grinding. What's this 'first' nonsense all about?"

He chuckles at my statement as the crimples take up residence on his face. "No, I clearly said '_get_ _back to_ the grind,' Ms. Mind-in-the-Gutter Swan."

_Oh, he's done it now_._ Not even crimples can save him._

I walk around to his side of the bed, where he is presently stretching his arms over his head. His cock is still perfectly erect.

_Project 'Back to the Grind' is now in full swing. Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a rough ride._

I cup his balls gently in one hand, while the other reaches just behind them, stroking the skin between his balls and his ass—No Man's Land. This area, for him, is like Kryptonite. His one true weakness. It's guaranteed to work him up.

"Fuck, that feels so good!" He closes his eyes, soaking in the sensation.

_Step One: We Have Lift Off_

I continue to stroke his skin, but move my other hand from his balls to his cock. One of the reasons I love a parka so much is that it makes jerking off incredibly easy; no lube required. His foreskin glides up and down with my hand. Judging from the way he starts to move his hips in time with my strokes, he loves it every bit as much as I do.

_Step Two: A Bird in the Hand_

I quickly drop to my knees and take him into my mouth without any warning. His gasp, quickly followed by a deep groan, is exactly the response I am looking for. God, he's too easy.

_Step Three: Hook, Line, and Sinker_

I move him in and out of my mouth, giving him a nice big hum for emphasis. Just when his hands find their way into my hair, I release him and stand up.

"I guess I'll just have to go first."

I turn around and head for the bathroom, but not too soon to miss his shocked expression.

"Oh, that's just plain cruel! What the hell?"

"I didn't want you to think I had misunderstood you again. You know, since my mind is always in the gutter and all," I tell him over my shoulder.

He's behind me before I even manage to get the bathroom door closed. He wraps one arm around my stomach, pulling me in close enough so I can feel his erection against my ass, while his other cups itself over my mouth.

His voice is low and husky in my ear. "I don't fucking think so!"

_Final Assessment: Project 'Back to the Grind' is a complete success. Mission accomplished!_

I hear the bathroom door slam shut, and suddenly, my body is up against it.

"Jesus, do you have any idea how worked up you make me?" He says gruffly, as he folds my legs up. His mouth and hands attack at the same moment, and it's almost too much pleasure all at once. I hear myself moaning into his deep kiss.

His hands explore my pussy, discovering just how wet he makes me. He pulls back, with a smirk on his face.

"Clearly, I'm not the only one who gets worked up," he says, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them off.

"Fuck me. _Please_." I'm clearly not beyond begging at this point. "Fuck me like it's the last thing you're ever going to do."

"Oh, I'll fuck you. You're going to wish you hadn't asked for that."

I can almost see the switch go off in his brain, and he doesn't waste a moment. He lines himself up with me, and then thrusts hard.

"In your dreams," I taunt. Anything to get him riled up to pound me harder.

The door rattles behind me, making a satisfying _thump_ in time with Edward's thrusts. The small part of my brain that isn't presently engaged in Dr. Cullen's sexual actions marvels at the good doctor's skills. Hard, slow, soft, any way you slice it, he's the best sexual partner I've ever had, without a doubt. This is exactly the reason it had been so long since I'd had sex before working with him; I was clearly waiting for the good stuff. It's like eating a dessert—why waste empty calories on a mediocre slice of food service chocolate cake when you can have deep, molten chocolate lava? I think about that chocolate lava cake and it dawns on me that even the part of my brain not engaged in having sex with Edward still has sex on the brain.

I need this so much right now, being pounded into by Edward. I need him to fuck yesterday's shift out of me. He needs it, too, to release all the tension, the angst, the disappointment. It doesn't take long before my orgasm hits. Edward bends over to kiss me roughly, biting my lips, and the added sensation is all it takes. I fucking love getting my release, I live for it. The entire world stops, and there is nothing but sensation and pleasure. Nothing can burst through that perfect feeling—for a brief flicker of a moment, you float with the gods. As I fall gradually back to earth, I feel Edward grab my hips hard while he enters me as deeply as he possibly can. I feel his cock pulse, and we breathe hard as we float back together.

I relax into the feeling of his warm body embracing mine, and it occurs to me that my new preferred coping mechanism is Edward Cullen. It's the very best way to get my mind off of work and stress. If Valium is "mother's little helper," Dr. Cullen is Swan's (not so) little helper. He is probably equally as addicting, but he's also all-natural and mighty delicious. If you have to be addicted to something in order to cope, then by all means, Cullen is the perfect solution.

A lazy, satisfied smile blooms on my face. "Hey Cullen—how about we both take our shower first?"

"Now you know why I appreciate your mind so much; you're always coming up with incredibly clever ideas."

"Wait a second—I thought my mind was in the gutter all the time!"

"Who says clever ideas can't come from the gutter?"

I unwind my legs from him and stand up, then reach around to slap his ass. As he rubs his cheek, I slip around him and turn on the shower. Without warning, he gives me a slap on the ass in return, causing me to squeal.

"You're such a dirty bird. You like that, don't you?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Oh, I intend to. Have no doubts about that."

I turn around to see his face looking all intense. Even though I just came, it makes me want him all over again.

"No starting anything more—I need to get clean and make a pan of brownies before we head to work."

"You're making me brownies? What's the occasion? Well, besides my fuckhot sex skills, of course."

"You're such an arrogant ass! They aren't for you, they're for Jasper."

"Why would Whitlock get brownies and not me?"

The pout on his face is almost irresistible. "Because he took on the GI bleed kid for me. He made me promise him brownies."

"Well, I promise you hot sex, and I deliver. That ought to be worth a pan of brownies at the very least."

I roll my eyes at him and sigh. "Fine, let's get in the shower, and I'll make a double batch." Cullen is pure evil, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for him.

Once we're out of the shower, I realize that I don't have enough time to get ready and make brownies. I decide to just put my hair into a ponytail while it's still wet to save time. I also need to get some clean scrubs. I walk out of the bathroom to see Edward pulling some scrubs up over his bare ass.

"No fucking way, Cullen. No. Way. I can't deal with commando tonight."

He gives me an innocent look, but I don't buy it. Not for a second. He just wants to drive me crazy. "It's just for you, baby. I know how disappointed you would be if I covered up parka and hid him away from you."

"That's precisely what I expect you to do. You are far too distracting for your own good."

"Look who's talking—leaving your beauties uncovered by a bra!"

"Dude, I'm going to put on clean scrubs when I get home! You have no excuse."

"Too late, pants are already on. It'll waste too much time to put on boxers."

"Do you want brownies or not?"

"You wouldn't! That's blackmail!"

"Try me."

The scrub pants go off, the boxer briefs go on.

_That's more like it._

We scramble out to his car, and he drops me at my place while he goes to pick up some dinner. I'm very satisfied to learn that for a guy, Edward is an excellent multi-tasker.

I start to work on the brownies, running around to get everything assembled in time for my shift. Before I know it, Edward has returned with not only dinner, but also coffee.

_I think I'm falling in love with this man. Sex, coffee, and dinner, the perfect combination._

"Please tell me you didn't wash the beaters!"

"I stir them together by hand, Cullen. Overbeating them makes the brownies tough."

"There has to be something to lick!"

_Is he completely unaware of what he does to me? _

"Oh, there's plenty to lick, it just isn't residing in the sink."

"You do not want to get me started, Swan. Leave the sexy talk for non-work hours."

"We aren't at work."

"You know what I mean."

"The spoon and bowl are in the sink, waiting for you. I somehow suspected that you would want to lick the batter."

He rushes to collect the goods, and I watch his tongue snake out to lick the spoon. It almost makes me wish I had a video camera handy, because Edward's long tongue moving over a spoon, moaning about how good it tastes—that's just pure, golden wank material right there.

What is it about this man that has me thinking about sex 24/7? I'm beginning to think I may need to bribe the medical secretary to change his shifts so that I'm not tortured by thinking about all the different ways we can have sex at the hospital. I don't know how I ever thought I would be able to keep things under wraps at work, because all he has to do is stand there and I want him. Who in god's name was I kidding?

When the brownies come out of the oven, Edward is hovering over me, trying to get at them.

"Dude, they're piping hot! Just wait until later. They'll be cool enough when we get to work." I slap his hands and shoo him away.

"I don't want to wait until then!" He whines. "Plus, then everyone will smell them and force me to share. Those babies are _mine_."

Somehow, I sense that he's referring to more than just the brownies.

"You don't have to go all caveman about it, you know. I'll bake stuff for you any time."

He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck sweetly. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

I smile at his comment, and glance over at the clock.

"Shit, we have to go or we're going to be late!"

I grab the brownie pans and my bag, and we're on our way.

**~xXx~**

When I look at my assignment for the night, I see that I have the post-op heart kid. That means I need to be on my A-game; these kids can be notoriously unstable, depending upon their heart defect. Our little patient has what is called Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, or HLHS. The left ventricle of the heart is used to pump blood to the body; it is larger and stronger than the right ventricle, because it has harder work to do. Children with HLHS basically have a non-functional left ventricle, which means they have no way to get oxygenated blood to their body. To add insult to injury, kids with HLHS also have a number of other heart defects along with the small left ventricle that complicate their prognosis.

This particular kind of heart anomaly is very serious, very critical, and the patient would never live for long without surgery. They end up having a series of heart repairs as they grow, and ultimately, by the time they are in their teens, they will require a heart transplant. The only reason they don't have a transplant right away is that the wait list for a baby- or child-sized heart is far longer than the child could survive. Our repairs merely serve as temporary bridges toward transplant.

My little patient had a Norwood procedure on his heart, so that his blood has a way to get oxygenated and circulated properly. It's a complex heart repair, and he was in surgery most of the day. He has a lot going on, but for now, it appears as though he is relatively stable. As I review the doctor's orders, I see one that makes me shiver.

_Oh my fucking god, no. N-to-the-O-NO! Not the leeches!_

The patient is on a very high dose of epinephrine, which raises blood pressure and improves the heart's ability to beat effectively. One of the drawbacks, however, is that in doing this aforementioned job, it constricts blood vessels. It turns out the HLHS kid has a couple of black fingers and toes, because they didn't get enough oxygen. One of the best ways we have to treat these kids is to use leeches to increase blood flow to the extremities. We could treat them with heparin, a blood thinner, but then it is pumped throughout the body, and could cause an adverse result like a head bleed. Leeches release their anti-coagulants directly at the source, bypassing the need to put other body systems at risk. Highly effective, but gross.

I fucking hate leeches. We don't use them often, but I hate it every time. They arrive at the bedside in sterile vials. You have to count the starting number of leeches then count them every four hours until they drop off the patient. Whenever you remove one, or add another, it must be documented. When they fall off, you have to dispose of them in a biohazard bag. It's downright disgusting.

Well, at least they aren't using maggots. I've never been able to get over that one. Maggots do a great job removing dead skin to help heal intractable wounds. They are most definitely my hard limit—I'm just not sure I could work with them. Thank god we don't really use them in our PICU.

I know my shift is going to be intense, so I go gather up my supplies in order to be prepared for whatever comes my way. On my way to the clean supply room, I see Edward leaning against a doorframe, getting patient details from the Resident. I'm not going to lie; I check out his ass. It doesn't matter that I was clenching that ass with my hands only a few hours ago, it is still a sight to behold. He's just a fine piece of meat, any way you slice it.

As if he is wearing one of Mad Eye Moody's magical eyes, he quickly turns his head to look at me—I blush when he catches me ogling. He doesn't need to say anything; he merely gives me a good shot of his crimples.

_What was I doing again? HLHS kid, leeches… oh, right. Supplies. Not Cullen's ass._

He fucking knows exactly what effect he has on me, and it's completely unfair. I shake my head and continue to the supply closet.

**~xXx~**

I get report from the nurse who I'm relieving, and she gives me the details about the surgery. For a Norwood, this kid did pretty well. Their status tends to be pretty tenuous for the first 24-48 hours. He may have some black fingers and toes, but the rest of him is doing just fine, all things considered.

Post-op heart kids require a lot of different medical interventions to keep them going once they return from the OR. This child has two IV poles at the bedside, with loads of different meds going into his IVs. You have analgesics, anxiolytics, paralytics, antibiotics, several different kinds of blood pressure meds, all infusing at the same time. I count the number of IV pumps, and there are 18. In addition, the kid is still losing some blood, so we're in the middle of a transfusion. Before the bedside nurse can leave her shift, we have to double-check all the medications and their IV rate, to make sure it is correct. It is one of the ways we minimize medication errors. Once we both confirm it's all right, I'm on my own.

There's nothing quite like getting to work on a complex patient. There are so many things to monitor at once, and it's absolutely what I love the most about my job. While you are closely watching their vital signs for any shifts, you also have to give a lot of different meds, keep track of how much is going into the patient and how much is coming out, and the list goes on. It took me forever to figure out a good system for dealing with this level of multi-tasking, but after five years of post-op hearts, I pretty much have my routine down pat.

When the patients come back from the OR, there is generally blood and mess everywhere. IV lines get tangled, blankets are bloody, dressings get loose. This is where my zone is, the place where I can get so lost in my work that I have no idea there is anything else happening in the world. My shift becomes a series of tasks, all the while checking the monitor every few seconds for any change in heart rate, blood pressure, or oxygen saturation. I clean up the patient from head to toe, put clean linens beneath them, and make them more presentable for their families. It's hard enough to see a baby full of tubes, lines, and machinery. Having all the blood and mess on top of that just makes it harder for their parents. My goal is to always minimize that, so their stress and trauma are lower. This is what I live for, what I thrive upon. It's incredibly satisfying to love what you do.

I'm so focused on caring for my patient that I don't notice Edward's presence behind me. To my credit, I do tend to get very absorbed in my tasks. I once spent an entire 12-hour shift working over a patient, wondering how the time flew by. It isn't until I feel his breath on my neck that I startle. The sensation invokes a lurid memory of our shower, and I feel my breath hitch.

"So, how's the patient, nurse Swan?"

"Cullen, no fair sneaking up on me! Knock it off!"

He chuckles, completely unrepentant. "His sats and pressures actually look really good."

"It's all part of the Swan technique."

"You have your own technique?"

"Of course I do. It involves the proper level of sedation and a decrease in external stimuli. Thus, your sneaking up on me flies completely against the known benefits of my technique."

"And how are you enjoying the leeches?"

I feel momentarily nauseated. "Ugh. They're all still here, unfortunately."

"Good thing, otherwise I would make you personally get on hands and knees and search for them."

Knowing there is no one else in the patient's room, I go out on a limb. "You just want to look at my ass, Cullen. Admit it."

"Like you weren't staring at _my_ ass earlier this evening."

I don't have to see myself in a mirror; I can feel the flush on my cheeks. "It was a moment of weakness."

He places the back of his hand on my cheek and smiles. "You're so full of shit, Swan. I totally have your number."

"Remember, I can always let everyone know you have a full pan of fresh, homemade brownies in the call room. You'd be flooded with requests."

From the look on his shocked face, I sense that I have finally reached him where it hurts.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Do you want to find out?"

"You're serious, aren't you? You would really rat me out? Steal my brownies out from under my nose?"

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow.

He huffs in frustration. "All right. You win. Let me keep my brownies to myself."

I get a sudden, devious inspiration. "It's a good thing you backed down. I was pondering a re-enactment of _Stand By Me_ with these leeches."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You've never seen _Stand By Me_? Are you fucking serious? How did you ever get your man card? It's like standard adolescent boy fare. One of the boys gets a leech on his penis when they wade through the swamp."

He just shakes his head and shudders. "Are you suggesting that you really want leeches by my work of art penis?" He gives me one of his finest, smug-ass smirks.

I roll my eyes again. "Oh, whatever! We're absolutely adding that one to our list. _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ and _Stand By Me_. It was the movie that first showed River Phoenix's true colors. Brilliant."

"Oh, speaking of the list, I need to talk to you about something."

The way he says it makes me all nervous. Jesus, the phrase, _I need to talk to you about something _should be banned from the English language for all of its angst-producing abilities. I feel my hands start to get a bit shaky.

"So, my parents are heading to the British Isles for three weeks, and they've asked if we would stay at the house and take care of Darcy and Elizabeth for them. The dogs freak out if we leave them with someone they don't know. Part of their maltreatment issues from when they were given up for adoption."

"Hold up—your parents want _me_ there, too? I find that one hard to swallow, Cullen. Are you sure you didn't beg them to let me stay?"

"Don't even go there, Swan. My mom drives a hard bargain. She even promised to leave plenty of Veuve chilled in the fridge if you agreed to the arrangement."

"Your mother thinks she has to bribe me with good champagne to stay at their house with you for three weeks? I mean, where do I lose in that equation?" I snicker.

"I believe I once told you that my mother is incredibly tenacious. She wants you there, have no doubt about that."

"I need no coercion or bribery to spend time with you; I would have thought that was understood by now."

"My mother always hedges her bets. Tenacity, remember?"

"Do we have to promise to leave the house standing? I mean, we could wreak a lot of havoc in three weeks."

"As long as you promise to wreak havoc only with me, that's all I'm concerned about."

"Of course I will, Edward," I say in a rare moment of seriousness. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do."

His pager beeps, and he leans in to sneak a kiss from me. "Oh, I think there's plenty of other things you'd rather do… must I remind you of our bathroom romp before work?"

I smack his ass and tell him to get lost.

**~xXx~**

About ten minutes later, the Resident walks into my room.

"Hey Bella, Dr. Cullen really needs to see you in room 2."

"Wait, he sent you in here to tell me that?"

"Yeah, he said it was some kind of emergency that you needed to see. That only you would understand."

_What the fuck, Cullen?_

"Okay, do me a favor, and grab Alice. She's in room 14. She can cover for me while I go see what's wrong with Cullen."

Alice flies in a few minutes later. "What's up?"

"I don't know. Cullen needs me to look at something."

"Does it have a parka and hide out in his scrub pants?"

"Shut the fuck up, shortstop. Not funny."

She giggles behind me while I stomp out of the room. "Just make sure the kid's pressures stay above a MAP of 50, okay?"

I'm half-annoyed, half-curious by Cullen's request. Why the hell couldn't he come to my room himself? It's not like I can just leave my patient unattended, after all.

As I walk into the room, Cullen's expression totally changes my tune. He looks very serious and upset.

"What is it?"

I look at the bedside, and we have a ventilated kid who is literally thrashing around in bed.

"This is why I was paged earlier. This kid is supposed to be sedated enough that he is calm. Apparently, he's been flying around the bed for hours."

When I look more closely, I can see that the patient is restrained for medical reasons, meaning his arms and legs are safely secured to the bed so he doesn't accidentally pull out his breathing tube. It doesn't matter; he is moving his trunk and head enough that he could easily extubate himself.

I look at the bedside nurse, Bree. She's newer to the PICU, just out of nursing school, so she isn't as assertive as some of our seasoned nurses are.

"Did you page the surgeon?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He told me that he wrote for generous sedation guidelines and that the patient should be fine. He lectured me on the fact that children don't feel pain like adults do, so he couldn't in good conscience prescribe more pain meds."

"But the patient clearly isn't fine! That is complete and utter bullshit!"

"I know, so that's why I paged Dr. Cullen."

I look at Edward, a little frustrated by this run around. I still don't understand why I need to be part of this. He looks over at the IV pump, and looks back at me, eyebrows raised. Suddenly, it all clicks.

"Who was in this room before you, Bree?"

"Jessica and Lauren came to get him settled when he got back from the OR."

"What exactly did they do to help you?"

"Well, Jessica was taking vitals and getting the monitor set up, and Lauren got all my IV pumps running right."

My eyes meet Edward, and I know we're both on the same page.

"When you give the patient extra morphine or versed, are you doing it from the IV pump, or drawing it up yourself?"

"I always use the IV pump, because it's easier."

"So you haven't given anything yourself?"

"No."

I go to the patient and pull out my pocket flashlight. I open his eyelids and shine the light directly in his eye to check his pupil responses. When a patient is properly sedated, the pupils are constricted. When they need more pain medication, their pupils are larger. Ideally, this boy's pupils will be about one millimeter in diameter. They are five, which is wholly unacceptable.

"Dr. Cullen, pupils are a five. I'm going to get some morphine from the med room. I'll be right back."

He nods, remaining at the bedside to help secure the patient.

I run back to the room with my vial of morphine and ask Bree what dose the patient can get.

"Well, I can't give him any more sedation for another hour."

"Bree, please just tell Bella what dose. Don't worry about what is prescribed. If I need to, I will write an order. Just consider this a verbal order for now."

"He gets 2 milligrams every two hours."

"Okay." I draw it up quickly and prepare to push it into the IV line.

We all stand at the bedside, watching the patient continue to thrash about. Within a few minutes, the thrashing starts to slow, and the patient settles into a relaxed state.

I look directly at Edward. "I suggest you order another morphine drip for the patient. I think this one may not be properly mixed."

"I agree with you, Bella. Would you mind hanging on to this bag until we can talk to the pharmacist about it tomorrow morning?"

"I'd be happy to, Dr. Cullen."

I love how we can have a perfectly normal conversation like this, so that anyone listening in hears one thing, when we both know we're talking about something completely different. We recognize that this drip has likely been tampered with, and now we can have the pharmacist analyze it to determine whether or not it contains the correct amount of morphine. This is exactly the kind of evidence we need to build a case around our suspicions about Lauren Mallory.

_Goddamn, Edward Cullen is fucking brilliant._

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 23, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_LITTLE NARC FIENDS_

In the Pediatric ICU, we often pump kids full of drugs to keep them adequately sedated. There is something about that concept, however, that just freaks parents, and other adults, out. I continue to be surprised at how many will balk at giving their children narcotic painkillers. I often turn the equation around, to help them see the importance of adequate pain control. If you get a tooth pulled, do you want Novocain? Absolutely. If you have abdominal surgery, would you want dilaudid? Yes, indeed. If you have a breathing tube down your throat, where you cannot even speak or scream, would you want to be wide awake, scared out of your mind? Hell, no. So, your child has open-heart surgery, where we have to crack their ribs open, and you don't want me giving extra pain medication to them? Really?

There are even some doctors who insist that children don't feel pain, or that they don't feel pain as acutely as adults do. Let me tell you, the pain response is in full swing from the moment we are born. In fact, we have empirical evidence in place that proves, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this is true. How a doctor can deny that evidence simply amazes me. There have also been studies that have shown that children heal faster when they receive adequate pain control. It is nothing less than cruelty to insist otherwise.

That being said, when a child ends up on a narcotic drip for a long period of time, due to an acute illness, we sometimes create little narc fiends. You can clearly see it happening; after a few days, they start needing a higher dose of medication to achieve the same level of sedation. The longer they are on these meds, the more difficult it becomes to turn them off so the child can regain consciousness when they are well. In fact, ICU nurses need to chart a child's level of sedation, and their reaction to decreased levels of narcotics. We have a "withdrawal scale" that is used to gauge a child's physical reaction to lower levels of narcs. It's the same thing that heroin addicts go through when they stop using. If you don't know what I mean, I encourage you to watch the movie _Trainspotting_—it shows the symptoms of acute withdrawal from heroin in gory detail. While heroin addicts may have a psychological addition as well as a physiological one, our patients are purely physically addicted. They suffer from tremors, diarrhea, sweating, dilated pupils, anxiety, and vomiting. It's not a pretty thing to watch. However, when kids are that physically addicted, we put them on a narcotic weaning protocol to help minimize their symptoms. Just as heroin addicts can be put on methodone to keep them from experiencing withdrawal symptoms, so can our little patients. We substitute methodone for morphine, for example, and taper their dose gradually so we minimize the effects of withdrawal. We do the same thing for kids addicted to versed, a powerful benzodiazapene. We substitute ativan for versed, which is chemically similar enough to minimize withdrawal symptoms. We wean them off over a period of days, gradually. It can work wonders.

The one drawback? Once you've been addicted to narcotics, you never fully get back to ground zero in terms of tolerance. In medicine, we refer to it as "narcotic naïve" or "non-naïve." These kids are never naïve again.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 5:04 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: One of my devoted readers, txtwihard, gently pointed out to me that I was misinformed about the correct way to clean an infant's parka. Turns out that American doctors and nurses have been doing it all wrong. Anyhow, I went back and changed the wording in chapter 6 to reflect the proper technique. JSYK.**


	18. The Cat is Out of The Bag

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I am positively overwhelmed—in a good way, naturally—by the number of people who have put this story on alert, named it as a favorite, and review every single chapter. I cannot thank any of you enough; I'm grateful that you're enjoying my little story. I do try to respond to reviews when I am able, but I readily admit I'm pretty much fail.**

**Things I own: One "Feel Safe At Night—Sleep With a Nurse" scrabble necklace, a cherished gift I just received from MsKathy. The reference in this chapter is dedicated to her. I flove her to death.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thank you to Ladyeire72, as always, for pre-reading; I had to discuss a difficult plot twist with her, and I appreciate her feedback. I think you will, too.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who labors over my story and helps me to deliver winning chapters. **

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE CAT IS OUT OF THE BAG**

At the end of my shift, I find Bella, intending for us to speak to the pharmacist together. I see her walking down the hall towards me and look at her with a smile.

"You have the syringe?"

"Yep, I was just on my way to speak with the pharmacist."

"I'm going to go with you."

"Why? There's no need for you to get involved, Cullen."

"But I am involved, and I told you before that I would go with you. I feel like having a doctor behind you might make your claims more credible, because we both know about Mallory's erratic behavior when it comes to her handling of narcs."

"What, you don't think a nurse can handle it on her own?"

"Come on, this isn't a doctor versus nurse thing and you know it. It's more like approaching the problem from two different perspectives. It also helps it look like you aren't on some personal vendetta."

"I see what you mean." She pauses, sighing deeply. "Sometimes, docs aren't willing to give us the credit we deserve; I just always assume I need to defend myself."

"I know, but you have to understand—that will never be the case between you and me. I have an enormous amount of respect for you as a person and as a nurse—the two are inseparable for me. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks."

We approach Phil Dwyer—the PICU pharmacist—and Bella hands him the syringe of morphine.

"Hey Phil—Dr. Cullen and I were in room 2 because the vented patient in there was thrashing around in bed. I did a pain assessment, and it was pretty clear that the patient was not getting any pain control. When I drew up morphine from a new vial and administered it to the patient, he settled down at once. It made me suspicious that perhaps something was wrong with the mix in this syringe. Is there any way to get the contents analyzed?"

"Are you implying what I think you're implying?" he asks frankly, giving Bella a serious look.

"Actually, Phil, I'm the one who called Bella into the room," I interject. "I knew something was seriously wrong with the patient, but I wanted an expert nurse's opinion. It was Bella who quickly came up with the idea that there was something wrong with the patient's pain control. Anyhow, room 2 needs a new drip prepared—the patient is just making due with prn doses right now. I think it would be prudent for you to oversee the compounding process personally."

"Um, Dr. Cullen is being a little overly zealous with the praise. We both figured it out together," Bella replies, shaking her head. "That being said, I think it would be a good idea to keep track of all the facts here, just in case it turns out that the syringe was tampered with."

"So you think it's a pharmacy error?"

"I think it is suspicious, but I'm not exactly sure who to be suspicious of, at the moment," I clarify. We don't want to give Mallory any clue that we're on to her.

"All right, then. I'll personally watch the compounding process and will deliver the new drip to the nurse in that room. Unless…"

Bella catches on to this immediately. "Unless you think it's the nurse in the room, right?"

"Well, I wasn't really sure how to say that tactfully, Bella, but yes. It could be the nurse, too."

"Don't worry, Phil. It wouldn't have been the nurse assigned to the patient right now," I explain. "There was a pair of nurses who helped get the patient settled post operatively, and it was one of them who got the drips set up."

"Thank you for the clarification, Dr. Cullen. I'll give you a call once the compound is analyzed. It will take a few days.'

"Do you mind keeping this to yourself until it comes back? We don't want to tip anyone off that we're suspicious."

"Absolutely. You know, our unit is also due for a pyxis audit. I think I might just initiate that now, to see if there are any suspicious patterns that arise regarding narc usage and wasting. It should fit together nicely with this analysis, and give us more clues as to who could possibly be responsible."

"Sounds perfect, Phil. Thanks for taking this seriously."

"I assure you, Dr. Cullen, this is as serious as it gets for a pharmacist. If our suspicions prove to have merit, the ramifications will be dramatic indeed."

Phil walks away from us, and Bella uses her head to motion towards our favorite rendezvous spot, the closet. No one will bother us there.

Bella's look is very intense. "So, what do you think?"

"I think Project Catch Mallory is officially underway, Swan. Good work."

"Edward, you are acting like this is all my doing. Be honest, you're the one who suspected that there was something wrong with the morphine. You need to give yourself some credit, too."

"No way. You're the one who figured it out in the first place. I want you to get the recognition for that."

"The only thing I really, really want is for Lauren Mallory to get caught. Stealing narcs from a critically ill child has to deliver you straight to Dante's ninth ring of hell."

"I totally agree with you, and I'm personally going to do whatever I can to ensure she sees that ninth ring of hell as soon as possible."

**~xXx~**

Bella and I don't have any shifts together for the rest of the week, and it really isn't the same without her here. Perhaps it's just as well—now I have plenty of time to plot out my plans for this weekend. I intend to completely dazzle her, so I need to make this good.

As part of my brain focuses on my weekend plans, I use the other part to check in with my Resident. I'm about to head to the call room to lie down for the night, and want to make sure there isn't anything urgent brewing. Once I'm convinced all is as settled as it ever gets around here, I walk over to the suite of call rooms located just outside of the PICU. Each room is equipped with a bed, a small shower, and a computer terminal. When things are especially hectic on the unit, I've been known to escape to one of these rooms just to get a moment of silence. It's a welcome sanctuary.

I grab an empty room and plop down on the bed. I quickly set the alarm on my phone to make sure I don't oversleep. I also use this chance to charge it for a few hours; it's been known to run out of juice during a shift, because I rarely have a moment of time when it isn't in use.

Tonight, Bella has been sending me lurid texts throughout my entire shift, and they've proven to be incredibly distracting.

_She's so going to pay for her transgressions this weekend_.

As if on cue, my phone vibrates.

_**I'm in bed rn. ;)**_

_ORLY?__What do u want me 2 do w/that info?_

_**I'm sure u can think of sumthin. Ur a smart boy.**_

_IDK. I think I need help._

_**Just thinking how I miss GEM.**_

_GEM?_

_***eyeroll**__*** GREEN EYED MONSTER**_

_Only miss my penis? Not me?_

_**DUH, what is peen attached to?**_

_Me?_

_**And to think u grad from med schl**_

_So, ur in bed, thinking of GEM, now what?_

_**Oh, u should know I am nekkid. In bed.**_

_U are a cruel evil harpy._

_***giggle**__*** Yeah? Ur biggest tease on planet**_

_Right. Ur not. *my turn for eyeroll*_

_**Still thinking of u…soaking wet, btw**_

_Am I in the shower?_

_**Hello? Pussy's wet, not u!**_

_Can't say things like that when I'm here n ur there_

_**Sopping, sloppy, soaking, dripping WET WET WET**_

_Did I fail to mention cruel, evil harpy? DYING here_

_**Wish u were dying HERE in my BED**_

_God, so do I. GEM is awake._

_***drool* So is kitty**_

_I wish they could rendezvous_

Suddenly, her texts stop. Did I say something wrong?

Not sure what's going on, and not wanting to provoke her further, I decide to try to get some sleep. I lay myself down and replay our conversation in my head; it just makes my cock stiffen even more. Bella has an incredible talent for making me hard. Even though we've been intimate on numerous occasions recently, I am still in danger of priapism whenever I think of her or hear her voice. I start to run my palm over my dick, imagining Bella's wet pussy spread out in front of me.

_God, I need her so badly. I feel like she cast a spell on my cock._

I'm so fucking tired, I start to nod off mid-wank. That's pretty pathetic.

I hear a knock at the call room door, and the sound startles me awake. I jump up to open it—something must be really wrong if they didn't even page me first.

I'm pleasantly surprised to find Bella standing in front of me, with a very mischievous grin on her face. If I'm not mistaken, she appears to be wearing nothing but a trench coat.

_HOLY. FUCK. I love this woman!_

I grab her suddenly, pulling her into the call room. She lets out a surprised squeak.

"I guess somebody up there likes me, because I've never needed you more than I do right this very minute. I swear to god, it must have been telepathy that brought you here."

"You always say stuff like that, Cullen!"

"That doesn't mean it isn't true!" I place her hand on my swollen cock. "See? I was just about to take matters into my own hand when you showed up."

"Oh my god, that is so fucking hot! Just look at you, all full of sex hair and in your scrubs." She runs her nails over my erection.

"You get off on that?"

"Fuck, yes. I want you so badly; I couldn't stand staying at home by myself. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? Are you insane? The only thing I mind is that you are not stark naked and riding on my dick!"

"That can be arranged."

"God, I was hoping you would say that."

She leans in and gives me a kiss that conveys the lust we've both been carrying around for several days. She pulls away from the kiss for a moment, and whispers in my ear.

"Undo my tie, Edward."

I do as she asks. When the coat falls open, I find that she is, indeed, naked underneath.

"Swan, you are such a dirty bird," I say approvingly. "I love it."

"Remember when I told you that daily sex was the way to go? That if I ever had my choice, I'd do it every fucking day?" She giggles. "Literally!"

"Yes, I seem to recall you saying something like that."

"Well, we need to figure out how to make that a reality. I've been dying. It's been three whole days."

"Wait a minute, you went for three years without having sex at all. Now you can't go three days?"

"Clarification: Now that I have a glorious, perfect C5 around, I can't go three days without having sex."

"There you go again, all caught up in my penis. I'm almost starting to be a little jealous of it, except for the fact that it is still attached to my body. Thank god for that!"

"Trust me, if it were attached to anyone else, it wouldn't appeal to me nearly as much as it does now. It's an absolute beauty, but the reason I want to ride it is because it is _yours_. Okay?"

"Well, I feel the same way about your pussy. It makes me wonder if our genitals found one another on Match. com. They seem to be perfect for each other."

While I am talking, Bella takes it upon herself to rid me of my clothing. She can be very determined and single-minded when she wants something.

"I have a present for you." Bella wiggles her fingers in front of me, but I have no idea why.

"Fingers? That was awfully thoughtful of you."

She rolls her eyes at me. "No, genius, it's the stuff on the end of the fingers that belong to you."

I stand there, looking at her, expecting a punch line.

She huffs her breath at me. "Cullen, everyone knows that nurses are supposed to wear their nails short. Look closely at mine."

Bella's nails are… _long_. Huh.

Then it dawns on me.

_Long nails equal scratching._

I'm not sure what kind of noise sneaks out from my throat, but it clearly has Bella amused.

"I thought you might be interested in that," she says with a grin. "That's why I deliberately grew them out."

I don't even answer her; I pick her up, caveman-style, and throw her on the bed.

"Hell fucking yes, I'm interested in that," I growl at her.

I jump on top of her, and all the sexting and teasing of the past three days comes spilling out. We practically devour one another, turning into a tangle of tongues, groping hands, moans, thrusts. Bella drags her nails along my scalp as she wraps one leg around my hip, pulling me in closer. My cock is hard against her pussy, sliding between her wet lips, with my head rubbing up against her clit. She is so wet that I slip right into her during one of my thrusts. It's so sudden, and feels so incredibly wonderful, that we both gasp out loud.

Bella responds by lifting her bum off the bed, allowing me to penetrate more deeply. I practically sigh with every thrust, it feels so perfect. Every time we're together, all the frustration, the fatigue, the anxiety of being a PICU doc escapes from me. It's like I'm taking an eraser to a white board and getting rid of all the baggage and shit I don't need. Bella manages to take it all away. I wonder why the hell anyone would choose to drink or use drugs if they knew that they could just have amazing sex to relieve their anxieties.

I'm broken away from my thoughts by the feel of her nails scraping along my back. It stings, but it is such a fucking turn on. No one has ever made me feel like this before—this is so much more than just having sex. Every single nerve ending is alight. I focus on the warmth surrounding my cock, the sensation of gliding in and out; every moment I'm in contact with her is just perfect. I listen to her panting, appreciative of the fact that I'm the one making it happen. Our bodies begin to slide together, our skin slick with perspiration. We are a study of the sublime. I convince myself no one has ever experienced a better sexual encounter than the one we're now having. On top of it all, Bella's deep brown eyes are focused squarely upon my own—we hold each other's gaze with a ferocious intensity. The emotions I am experiencing are mirrored back to me in her gaze.

_She feels it, too._

Bella suddenly closes her eyes and arches her back. Small whimpers escape from her mouth, noises I've never heard her make before. She's so caught up in the moment, it's like she isn't even aware of what's happening around her. When she opens her eyes again and looks straight into mine, she lets out a scream and clenches my ass with her fingertips. I feel that familiar explosion take off in my groin, and my instincts take over, thrusting into her again and again as my orgasm unfolds.

_I have no idea how, but sex with Bella gets better every fucking time._

My body stills as my cock continues to pulse inside of Bella. We don't say a word, we just slow down together, hands intertwined. I kiss her gently, trying to convey with actions what I am unable to in words.

_I'm in love with her. I love Bella Swan._

The thought just pops into my head, without warning. It catches me off guard. Where the hell did it come from? I've never been in love with anyone else before. I may have thought I was, but in retrospect, it pales in comparison to the connection I have with her. I know that it is way too soon to be thinking about love, but my heart is trying to convince my mind to accept it as fact. It knows what it wants.

I slide out of her to fetch a washcloth, and she makes an adorable pouting noise when I leave. I bring it back to the bed and carefully clean her beautiful pussy. God, I love it so much. Once I'm finished, I toss the washcloth back into the bathroom and slide into bed with her. I wrap my arm around her side, and pull her as close to me as is humanly possible. She puts her arm over mine, weaving our fingers together. I don't know that I've ever been happier in my life than I am at this very moment.

We're startled awake by my phone alarm. I'm confused about where I am—I thought I was at the hospital, but I can't be if Bella is snuggled in next to me. I open my eyes, still disoriented. It's definitely the call room. As I reach for my phone to check the time, I see her trench coat crumpled up on the floor. The memory of last night floods my brain with images.

_Fuck, Bella showed up naked under her trench coat. Cullen, you are one lucky SOB._

My cock definitely remembers last night's action, too, and wakes up to say hello to Bella's ass. I lean over and kiss her neck, pressing my erection into her crack. When I hear her groan, I assume something is wrong. She grabs my thigh and pulls it over her hip to give me added friction, and I understand that the groan was a good one. I turn her onto her back and cup her face between my hands. As I bend over to give her a kiss, she quickly puts the back of her hand over her mouth.

"What are you doing, Swan?"

She mumbles back an explanation: "Morneen breff."

"I don't fucking care," I emphasize while removing her hand and replacing it with my lips.

I know that I only have about 15 minutes before I need to walk out of this room, dressed and ready for morning rounds, but that is certainly enough time for a quickie. I give Bella's barbells a quick tweak, forcing a delicious moan out of her. I reach down to her pussy, only to find her wet and ready for me. It dovetails so nicely with my plans for her.

I'm just about to slide into Bella when the door opens. Barb, an older woman who does all the housekeeping for the PICU, is standing there in front of us, vacuum in hand, staring at our naked bodies intertwined. She speaks before I have a chance, while Bella lets out a scream.

"Oh boy! I guess there's someone still in this one! I'll just come back later," she says, eyes wide in astonishment. Something tells me catching couples fornicating in the call room isn't an everyday occurrence.

We look at each other then start to crack up. I give her a kiss then tell her, "Well, I guess it's no longer a secret that we're sleeping together!"

"Shit, I know. I don't know what I was thinking, imagining that we could keep this quiet. There is _no_ fucking way I could ever be quiet when you're inside me, Edward," she confides.

"Don't worry, baby. I'd never ask you to. I fucking live for the noises you make."

"I need to slip into some scrubs and get out of here before anyone else sees me. This is going to be major league embarrassing," Bella groans.

"Aw, man! I was hoping for a quickie!"

"Well, how much time do we have?"

_I love the way this woman's brain works!_

"Eight minutes."

"Okay then. Lock the door and get your C5 to work! STAT!"

**~xXx~**

On Friday afternoon, I give Bella a call to make arrangements for the weekend. We're going to have 48 hours of shared indulgences. I need for her to understand exactly how much she means to me, and I plan on allowing my actions to speak just as loudly as my words.

Tonight, I'm going to wine and dine her on my parent's porch. I remember how much she loved it when we celebrated my birthday there. When I inform her of my plans, she naturally has to raise some objections.

"All right, I will allow you to make dinner for me, on one condition: You have to let me bring the dessert."

"Bella, Bella, Bella, when will you ever learn that _you_ are the dessert?"

"Ah, no, Edward, _you_ are the dessert."

"Oh, well in that case, you don't need to bring anything, because I will already be there. That's handy."

"Oh, whatever!" she scoffs. "Now, you're sure you want me there the entire three weeks?"

"My mother was adamant."

"Yes, but you can tell me the truth—if you need some time by yourself, I completely understand."

"Do you honestly think I'd rather be by myself when I could be alone with you?"

"Well, I don't like to make assumptions."

"Swan, from now on you can safely assume that my preference is to spend as much time with you as is humanly possible, both at work and at play."

"Play? I like the sound of that."

"Just you wait… we're going to play as hard as we work this weekend."

"Okay, I promise to be ready."

"That's more like it. I'll pick you up around 5:00."

**~xXx~**

When I arrive at Bella's place, I find that she's wearing some kind of skirt—I have no fucking idea what style it is. All I know is that it is short and has ruffles along the bottom that are screaming out to me: _Lift me up!_ They might as well be equipped with handles on the bottom to facilitate said lifting up. Clearly, this was designed as a torture device to taunt me in cruel and insidious ways. I'm never going to make it through dinner without attacking her first. I'm already so fucking hard and all I'm doing is looking at her. She is 100% sex kitten.

She gives me a very lusty kiss when she opens her door, and before I know it, I have her against a wall; I simply cannot control myself around her any longer, nor do I wish to. I am positively stoked that I get to have her all to myself for three weeks. If I didn't know any better, I would guess that my mother planned their annual trip to England early just to give me time to woo Bella. Esme can be very crafty that way. It might sound like she's overbearing, but she isn't; she would never make a move if she weren't aware of my intense feelings for Bella. She is merely acting as a catalyst. I know, more than anything, she just wants to see me as happily in love and well paired as she is.

I press against Bella, so she can feel how she is affecting me, and she slides her hands into my back pockets, giving my ass a squeeze. I'm about to ease her skirt up when I hear someone clearing their throat.

_Shit. I forgot she has roommates._

I inch my body away from hers and try to break our kiss, but she won't have it. She makes a little whining noise and tries to pull me back into her.

In between her sucking on my lower lip, I manage to say, "Bella, we should probably cool it in front of your roommates."

She huffs at me. "Oh, right, because Jasper never does anything like that in front of me. The things I've had to listen to make me shudder, seriously."

I hear Jasper snort in the background. "Whatever, Bella. I certainly don't jump on Alice the minute we walk through the door."

"Whitlock, there's a reason I use a Clorox wipe on the counters every time I'm in the kitchen, and it isn't because I have OCD."

"Well, I can see that getting laid hasn't improved your sense of humor any," Jasper quips.

"I don't know about you, Edward, but I'm very ready to leave," she retorts, crossing her arms. "I'm certain I don't need to worry about the cleanliness and safety of your parent's countertops."

I'm about to tell her that she shouldn't be so sure, but decide against it. Some things are better left unsaid.

Alice walks into the room, wondering what the bickering is all about.

"Hey Cullen. How did you manage to start World War III in the few minutes you've been here?" She's giggling so I know that she's just giving me a hard time.

"I'm amazed that they haven't maimed each other yet, but I swear I'm an innocent bystander here."

"Oh, I know. They love their verbal sparring. It's like watching a good tennis match."

"… I can't tell you how nice it will be to actually get a restful night of sleep. No more waking up to a sudden scream, or hearing your bed slam against my wall…" Bella rants in the background.

Jasper grasps Bella by her upper arms, forcing her to turn around and face Alice and me. "Swan, just look at that wonderful, beautiful woman over there. How could I ever be expected to keep my hands off of her? Honestly. Look at Edward; I'm sure it's the same for you."

A warm smile appears on Bella's face as she nods in agreement. She heaves a big sigh.

"I know, Jasper. I get it. She's adorable and I can't blame you a bit. Just give me a little bit of leeway, too, okay? We're all just lucky we found someone special in our lives."

"That we can totally agree on. We kinda hit the jackpot, didn't we?"

"Yep. Now give me a hug, and I'll get out of your hair for three weeks. Just promise me you'll wipe down the counters before I return."

Bella says goodbye to her roommates and we haul her stuff down to the Aston Martin. Before I know it, we're headed for Mercer Island and I'm clasping Bella's hand between us. I'm thrilled at the prospect of spending three weeks playing house with this amazing woman. To think back over all the years I've wanted her, and now here she is, sitting next to me, holding my hand—I feel like I should be pinching myself to verify that this is really my life.

I glance over at Bella, who has an enormous grin on her face, almost like a kid who is waiting to open Christmas presents. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I feel completely at ease, like we were always meant to be here, together.

_Thank you, Mom and Dad. If you wish to extend your visit in the UK, I'll happily extend my stay at your house with Bella…_

**~xXx~**

After all of Bella's gear has been brought into my room, we go upstairs and pop open a bottle of champagne.

"To playing house for three weeks," I toast.

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" Bella says as she clinks my glass.

I'm not really sure how to introduce the next topic, so I just go for frankness.

"So, my mom left you a housesitting gift."

"What?" She looks positively mortified. "Hold up—I get to spend three weeks with you, in a beautiful house, with your parent's beautiful dogs, drinking Veuve Clicquot champagne, and she buys me a gift? No, that's just not okay with me."

"Perhaps you should wait to see what the gift is, first."

"Well, if it is her fuckhot, beautiful son, that's one gift I would never turn down," she beams a smile at me.

"I'm glad to hear that, but that isn't the gift."

"I don't get to have you?" She gives me a mock pout.

"Swan, you'll have me every conceivable way possible over the next three weeks, of that you can be sure." I place the small, black velvet bag into Bella's palm.

"I hate presents, you know that."

"How many times do I have to tell you that my mother is tenacious? If you don't accept it now, she'll keep giving it to you until you do. I assure you of that."

She looks at me suspiciously, carefully opening the bag and pouring the contents into her palm. It's a small necklace comprised of a Scrabble tile with a small image covering the front. It's a nurse's cap along with the wording _Feel Safe at Night—Sleep with a Nurse_.

"Oh my god, does this mean she's giving me carte blanche with her son?"

"I think it means that she sees you as an ally against her physician husband and physician son. Not only has she been the only woman around the house, but also the only nurse. She knows you'll even out the score. Besides, I already told you—my mom really, really likes you."

Her cheeks flush a stunning shade of pink. "Yeah, but it isn't your mom who decides about stuff like that."

"Let me make it clear to you, Bella—my mom and I are of one mind on that matter. Not like I've discussed it with her, but we're _both_ sold on you."

I lean over and give her a deep kiss to ensure her of my sincerity. When she places her hands on my cheeks and lets out a contented sigh, I am reassured that my mother didn't kill things off for me. Esme Cullen has an uncanny ability to know exactly what a person needs, and I'm very grateful for her ability at the moment.

My phone rings, interrupting our kiss. I glance down at the display to see who it is—I really don't want to be interrupted right now. It's a number from the hospital that I don't recognize.

_Shit._

"This is Dr. Cullen," I say tersely.

"Hi Dr. Cullen, this is Phil Dwyer. I just got the analysis results back on that morphine syringe you gave me a few days ago. Did you know that it was filled with normal saline?"

**END NOTE: I should actually post this message in every chapter, but I want to remind everyone: PLEASE sign up to be an organ donor. You will literally be giving the gift of life. Also, if you are able, donate blood regularly. As you can see in my stories, it does so much to help keep people alive. **

**A copy of Bella's necklace can be seen on my NSFW LJ page: kimpy0464 at livejournal dot com.**


	19. She's Your Lobster

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: IMPORTANT WARNING: LOBSTERS WILL BE MAIMED IN THIS CHAPTER. (That is specifically for lobsters4ever1).**

**Things I own: Two cases of Menage a Trois wine, and two bottles of Veuve Clicquot champagne. I love the October wine sale.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to Ladyeire72, who kindly agreed to beta this chapter for me. Not only that, she puts up with my endless fussiness over these chapters. She's willing to pre-read some horrid nonsense as the chapter makes its way to its finished self.**

**My usual beta, Trinity/TFX needed some time off this week. *snuggles you with ****hugs and kisses*******

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: "SHE'S YOUR LOBSTER"**

"_Hi Dr. Cullen, this is Phil Dwyer. I just got the analysis results back on that morphine syringe you gave me a few days ago. Did you know that it was filled with normal saline?"_

Phil and I talk about our next move, and I let him know that I'll be in contact with Dr. McCarty; Emmett needs to know what is potentially going down here. I should also give my dad a call, but I'll wait until he's awake tomorrow. The bottom line is that we can't do anything more about the Lauren incident this weekend, since no one will be around to further the investigation until Monday. I quickly send McCarty an e-mail to explain the situation. Once that task is accomplished, Bella and I can relax and enjoy a few calm days together.

I had originally intended to bring Bella out for dinner tonight, until it dawned on me that, should I suddenly get incredibly aroused watching her eat seafood (which is highly probable), I wouldn't be able to do anything about it in public. At my parent's house, there is nothing stopping me from taking her on the fucking table when that need arises. Personally, I think my plan is pure genius.

I'm going to put lobsters on the grill. It's a beautiful summer evening, and we can watch the sunset from the deck.

Bella's reaction, however, puts a distinct glitch in my otherwise brilliant plans.

"You're going to _boil _them? In front of me? Don't they scream when they hit the water or something?"

I let out a loud snort. Is she fucking with me? The woman who is calm, cool, and collected as she's coding a kid can't handle boiling a bottom feeder?

"You're joking right?"

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. I know she's a little miffed, but I get distracted by the way they frame her tits. I may have looked at them a beat too long.

"My face is up here, Assward."

_Assward?_

"What the fuck is that all about? Assward? I'm slaving over a fancy dinner for my favorite woman in the world, and that earns me the title Assward? Really?"

"Ogling my tits while I'm upset about boiling lobsters alive isn't going to win you any points."

"Oh, well rest assured, they're _mostly_ dead by the time I cut them in half and put them on the grill." I laugh at my cleverness.

Bella makes a sort of high-pitched wailing noise that appears to be a string of the word "no" over and over again. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Okay, Swan, I'm totally lost here. I'm sincerely trying to put on my A game for you. We're alone for three weeks, playing house, and I have all kinds of visions about fucking you on and in every square inch of this space. I've never looked forward to anything more in my life, not even the first time I went to Disney World. I'm just trying to do right by you, and prove to you that I belong in your life. Help a guy out?"

"Edward, let's back up a step," she says, more calmly. "You don't need to do _anything_ in particular to impress me—I was impressed the minute I met you. I'm looking forward to this every bit as much as you are. But dude, lobsters? They mate for life, and you're ruining what are likely two very nice crustacean couples just to impress me. I mean, what if that was us?"

_Am I hearing this right?_

"Huh? I might need a road map or something, because this conversation lost me a while back."

"Edward Cullen, what if I was your lobster? What if some horrible, mean, bad, hardass fisherman from _The Deadliest Catch_ caught me, but left you at the bottom of the sea? Do you see where I'm going now?"

"Uh, yes? No? I have no idea, really…"

"What if _I'm_ your lobster?" I can tell she's starting to tear up, and I feel like a total asshole. All I wanted to do was make her swoon!

"Like, symbolically?" I glance over at the champagne bottle, and notice that it is nearly empty. We haven't eaten for hours.

_Aw hell, it went straight to her head!_

I pull her into my arms, kissing the top of her head in an attempt to calm her down.

"If you're my lobster, there is fucking _no one_ who will split us apart, I promise. What kind of lameass mate for life would allow _The Deadliest Catch_ guys anywhere near his girl? Certainly not me."

"Do you promise?"

"Absolutely," I assure her with another kiss on her head. I'm getting far too used to how much I like doing that. "I tell you what, why don't you get started shucking the corn, so you don't have to deal with the lobsters, okay?"

I hate that I've mentioned this to her, because I love how it feels when she nuzzles into my chest hair. I'd be perfectly happy to stand here with my arms around her for several hours, but dinner has to come first. _So we can come later_._ Hehehe._

"Yes, corn is doable."

_Words like "doable" are not helpful right now, Bella Swan. I'm trying to focus on the meal here._

"I've had it soaking in water long enough. Leave the husks on, though. That will keep it moist as it roasts on the grill. Just get rid of the silk. I'll brush the oil on it later."

Bella gets to work on the corn while I pull the lobsters out of the water. I need to cut them down the middle before putting them on the grill. I look over at her, and she is meticulously plucking bits of silk away, her small hand wrapped around the stalk end of the corn. It is exactly the same way she holds my dick in her hand, and the image in my brain goes straight to my cock. I turn my focus back to the lobsters, trying to calm myself down.

"I'm really impressed, Cullen. How did you figure out how to do all this stuff?"

"Well, my dad is really good with the grill, and my mom taught me the rest. She was determined I would end up being able to take care of myself."

"Smart woman, your mother. I love her take on things. It must be great having a mom like her."

"She's one of the best women I've ever known, and she has definitely tainted the light in which I see other women. She sets the bar impossibly high."

Bella's eyes grow large, as if she's worried that somehow, she doesn't measure up.

"No, I'm not referring to you, Bella. That's exactly why _you_ appeal to me—you have so many of the same qualities. You're fiercely intelligent, determined, confident, and have an enormous heart. That's why other women can't come close to touching you. You're perfect just the way you are."

I watch a beautiful blush spread over her face; it makes me smile to myself. I love how easily I can tell my words affect her. Her cheeks tell me more than her words ever do.

"I just want to be the kind of woman who deserves someone like you."

"Trust me—you do. Also, your parka fetish doesn't hurt."

She whacks my shoulder. I notice that her cheeks are still a brilliant red.

"Let's get this stuff on the grill."

**~xXx~**

I purposely planned this menu because it is messy, which will force us to use our hands and do things like smack our lips together or lick our fingers—the way humans had to eat before manners and silverware were invented. There's something about digging into food that has an erotic element to it. Watching Bella tackle this kind of meal will be downright pornographic.

I place an ear of corn on both of our plates, add the grilled lobsters, and open our beers. My plan is to feed her; I've noticed her eyes go all wonky when she watches me eat. I stand behind her and tie a lobster bib around her neck while she giggles at me.

"Are we going to get all slippy sloppy here, Cullen?"

Her word selection reminds me of her text message the other day: _Sopping, sloppy, soaking, dripping WET WET WET_.

Definitely not helping the hard cock situation.

"Yes, that's the plan."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you've been a little devious here."

I give her my best look of innocence. "What? I just wanted to make you a special meal!"

She gives me a smug grin. "Yeah, right. This is totally a meal made of food porn."

"Food porn?"

"I don't think you truly appreciate just how much watching your hands and mouth unravel me. Every. Fucking. Time."

She's a quick one, Bella Swan. Can't get anything past her sharp brain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You might want to do something about that gutter your brain appears to be in most of the time."

Looking as fierce as a skinny, wet kitten, Bella scrunches up her eyes and mouth.

"You are incorrigible! How do you always manage to end up making it look like I'm the perv here?"

"Because you are. I'm merely highlighting the truth. Plus, you know how hot it makes me when you use big words like that; one might think you were doing that on purpose."

"I don't know if you want to push this, Cullen. I can be perfectly chaste if I need to be."

I snort once again. "Yeah, right. All I need to do is wave my dick in front of your face and you'll be weak in the knees."

"You are such a narcissist. The world does not revolve around your penis."

"Your world seems to."

She crosses her arms with exaggerated emphasis and looks away from me. I'm a little worried I may have pushed her too far, but I was only having fun. I thought she was, too, but now I'm not so sure.

"Bella?"

The only reply I hear is a "hmm."

I decide to pull out the big guns. I sex my voice up for her, repeating her name: "_Belllla_?"

I see her swallow hard. Her resistance is breaking.

Suddenly, a wry grin blooms on her face. I feel her foot skim over my pants, up my thigh, until it lands directly in my crotch.

"Yessss, Edward?" She says, batting her innocent doe eyes at me. I know better.

"I know what you're doing, you know."

"Hmmm? What is it that I'm doing?"

She can feel how hard my cock is, and she is pressing down upon it mercilessly. _Fuck._ I let out a groan. Her smile only widens.

"Oh, do you mean this?" She adds her other foot, capturing my erection between them. She's alternating pressure up one side, then down the other, and she's driving me crazy. I grab her feet, stopping her movement, and press them even more forcefully into my hardness.

I'm totally unprepared for her oncoming assault; I'm caught blindsided. She begins to show me exactly how pornographic this meal really is.

I watch as she takes a chunk of lobster meat and dips it into the ramekin of butter. She opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out to accept the meat. She has butter all over her fingers, which she licks off with painstaking slowness, emphasizing each moment with a series of "mmms" and "oooooohs." To top it all off? _She fucking licks her lips_.

Looking me in the eye, she says, "Soooooo good."

Then she directs her attention to the corn on the cob. She removes the holders at either end of the cob. Holding it like it's my cock, she mumbles, "Yes, this looks pretty close."

Her tongue darts out from her mouth, and she slides it up and down the ear of corn, punctuating her actions with more sexy noises. If someone walked in on us right now, they would be convinced we were filming a porno.

She swirls her gorgeous little tongue around one end and all I can do is imagine that she's working my cock up and down. The woman is positively killing me.

As if my cock isn't already ragingly hard (her feet are still pressing away as if nothing else is going on), she deep throats the cob of corn.

_DEEP. _

_THROATS. _

I can't take this another fucking second.

"Swan!" I growl out at her.

"You want something, Cullen?"

"Yes. I want you to stop wasting your skills on inanimate objects and get to work on the real thing."

"Oh," she says with complete innocence. "We're finished with dinner?"

"We're finished with dinner."

I throw her feet away from my lap and stand up; I have half a mind to toss all the plates onto the ground and pull her straight onto the table. Before I even have time to think, she thrusts her flat palm against my chest and yells, "Wait!" Trust Bella to come up with a diversion that totally stops my line of thinking dead in its tracks.

Her eyes are wide, surprised; I'm standing across the table with what must be a very wild look upon my face.

"Um, I forgot to tell you, I have a special surprise for you."

"You forgot to tell me?"

"Yes, you have a tendency to mess with my brain."

I look at her, waiting for the big reveal. I even circle my hand to speed her along.

Slowly, she takes her hand and drags her fingertips along the v-neck of her sweater, starting at her neck, and ending at the top of her cleavage. She undoes the first button, and my complete attention is riveted on her action. She repeats this process for each button, dragging it out in an agonizingly slow fashion. I'm ready to either burst or tear her sweater open on her behalf; I'm not quite sure which.

When the final button is free, she pulls her sweater open to reveal a sheer navy blue bra. It's almost more erotic than seeing her bare breasts, because you have to imagine what they look like without their covering. She smiles, waiting for my response.

"That is the most beautiful bra I've ever seen, Swan. It makes me want to rip it off you so I can get to the main event."

"Oh, it's not the bra, Edward. Look closer."

How the fuck can I look closer, aside from the aforementioned bra-ripping method? What the hell is she playing at? Is she unclear as to just how crazy it makes me to _almost_ see her bare breasts? Jesus, the sight of her erect nipples in between her barbells…

_She told you to look more closely, idiot!_

I yank the cups of her bra aside to uncover her nipples. She has donned a new pair of barbells, with bright blue balls at the end. The perfect shade of blue to go with her beautiful ivory skin tone.

_She bought a pair of barbells just for you. Fuck. Me._

"Do you have any idea what the shade of blue does to me when you wear it?"

She merely smiles and nods her head coyly. She removes her sweater, flinging it onto the deck floor.

_Bella Swan is putting out fire with gasoline._

Instantly, I grab her arms and pull her over to the deck railing; she is facing the lake with her back to me. I cannot possibly get my hands on her quickly enough. I unzip her skirt and she helps me get it off. She is standing, back arched and ass popping out, wearing nothing but a thong and her blue bra.

_Fucking perfection_.

I think somehow that I won the lottery. I shouldn't be allowed to have access to a woman who is this awesome. Clearly, somebody out there likes me. Her body, her mind, her sex drive—nothing could be better than it already is. I rub my hands over her now exposed cheeks, feeling the skin react to my touch.

I grab onto the back of her thong and give it a gentle tug. She instantly arches her back even further for me. I let go of my grip on the fabric, but start to slide my thumb up along the crevice of her bum. I lean over and lick along her spine, starting at the top of her panties and moving upward. I pause momentarily to unclasp her bra. I reach around to cup her breasts in my hands while she shrugs the bra loose. I haven't even developed a plan as to what I'm going to do and when I'm going to do it, I'm moving on pure instinct. My mind is completely untamed and scattered, probably because the entire volume of my body's blood supply has taken up residence in my swollen, throbbing cock.

I pinch her nipples then give her barbells a quick twist. Her gasp is the only incentive I need to keep up my level of attention. I keep one hand on her breast and slide the other down the front of her panties. She's so fucking wet for me already; I just want to be inside of her. The mental picture of her deep throating the corn pops back into my head, and I get a wild idea. I stop what I'm doing and dart over to the table, looking for what I need. I'm back before she even knows what I'm doing.

"Edward, wha—?" she says in a breathy voice.

I lean over and whisper in her ear. "Shh, baby. I'm going to make you feel so good. Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she says, her voice shaking.

"Take off your thong," I tell her, my voice gruff. She immediately complies with my request.

I dip my thumb into the olive oil I grabbed from the table. I rub it all around her pucker and reach for her pussy with my other hand. I drag some of the wetness from her slit and circle around her clit, giving it a nice pinch every few seconds. I alternate the pinches with slipping the tip of my thumb into her backside. I alternate speed and pressure, so she never knows exactly what to expect, and it has the desired effect. She is a mess of groans and whimpers, just the way I like her.

When I've had enough of the teasing, I lean over her, making sure she can feel my hard cock on her ass. I whisper into her ear, "I'm finally going to free myself from these dick-constricting shorts, and I'm going to plunge myself into your gorgeous pussy. I'm assuming you're okay with this plan."

She doesn't answer me. She just nods her head vigorously. I make quick work of dropping my shorts and I can practically hear my dick gasp in the clear night air. _Total relief._

I wrap one hand around her hip and use the other to direct my cock to follow the yellow brick road, because really, there is no place like home. Dorothy knew what the hell she was talking about, even if she had no idea that home is actually Bella's sweet pussy. My mind starts to wander down that path, imagining a two-way between Bella and Dorothy, fighting over who gets my cock first. Damn, that would be hot.

_Focus, Cullen. One cooch at a time, and that happens to be the one your cock is poised to enter._

As I slowly slide myself into her, I feel her close around me as if her pussy is giving my cock a nice handshake. People talk about the concept of "coming home" when they have sex with the person they love, but it's so much more than that to me. The minute I'm completely buried in her, the universe halts. That very moment, joining together with her defines me, holds me captive, erases complete meaning. There is nothing more, nothing less. We just simply _are_ in that moment, and it's everything to me.

I decide that I want to do this slowly, even though I've been thinking about all the ways I want to fuck her hard since I saw her in that skirt. I want her to relish every moment of contact I have with her pussy, and leave her begging for me to bury myself into her once again. As I focus on getting myself balls deep, I dip my finger into the olive oil and spread it around her pucker once again. I make slow, lazy circles around it, moving just as slowly as my cock is sliding in and out. She arches her back into me, seeking deeper contact with my cock and my finger. I allow the very tip of my finger to slip inside of her, and my reward is her gasp.

"Ffff… fuh… fucking… hell… Cullen…"

_I love it when I make her lose all conscious thought. _

Every time my finger moves into her pucker, she gasps. At first, I was worried it was an unpleasant sensation, until she moans out a deep "mmmm" sound.

_She fucking loves it. And I fucking love my twisted minx._

From my vantage point, I watch myself sliding in and out of Bella, the way her lips hug my cock, and it's one of the most beautiful sights I know. I'm convinced that I will never tire of seeing us joined together like this, even fifty years from now. My cock was made for her, and her entire body comes alive the minute we experience even the most benign touch.

I'm so wrapped up in watching us move together that I fail to pay attention to how quickly Bella is winding up for an orgasm. It isn't until I feel her spasms around my cock and my finger that I realize she's already there. She got there without any clitoral stimulation at all. It's not as though I've never used backdoor action before, but I'm surprised at how quickly and easily it made Bella come.

_Why yes, I am Dr. Edward Cullen, sexual genius extraordinaire._

Perhaps I'm a wee bit too smug, but there's something to be said for getting your woman off in record time, and I'm pretty fucking pleased with myself. I'm still watching her beautiful pussy, and my mind shifts to what it would look like if my cock was in her ass instead of my finger. Just the image alone makes me lose it, and I hear Bella coaxing my orgasm out of me.

"Fucking pound it into me, Cullen."

I do just that.

**~xXx~**

Sometimes, my life feels like an endless stream of espresso shots loosely connected to one another by the passing of time. When you rely heavily upon caffeine to keep moving forward, that's just the way it is.

Having cleaned up the epic mess I made on the deck last night, I take a seat by Bella at the kitchen table. We're both quiet as we wait for our caffeine to kick it, but there is absolutely nothing awkward about it. It is a companionable silence, where we're both comfortable just being together in the moment. This is the way all mornings should start, in my opinion. Actually, the best would be wake up sex with Bella, then coffee and companionable silence.

"If I confess something that makes me vulnerable, do you promise not to freak out?"

I feel myself tense up at her words. "The only thing that would possibly freak me out right now would be your asking me to take you home."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," she chuckles. "It's just that sitting here, drinking coffee with you—it feels very natural to me, like we've been doing this for years. You feel very right to me, and I never thought I would say that to someone. I was always convinced I'd end up alone. I certainly didn't expect to find you."

"Bella, how could someone so intelligent, funny, and beautiful end up alone? What were you thinking?"

"I didn't mean I'd be alone because I had been rejected, it's not that. It's because I'm so independent, I never imagined I'd want to be with someone. I'm surprised by how much I like this. Sitting quietly with you, doing nothing. It's a huge revelation for me."

"Well, since we're promising not to freak out, I was just thinking the exact same thing. It says something special about a person when you can sit together with them in silence and it feels perfectly comfortable. There's no awkward with us, you know? I never expected it, either, but I'm grateful for it. For having it."

"Does it scare you? A little? I'm trying not to over think it all, because that's definitely my tendency. It feels like we've moved so fast, and my rational brain is trying to convince me there's something wrong with that. Like it's just a crush or something."

"Okay, clearly we're heading for analysis paralysis. Let's just answer the most important question of all: Who gets the crossword puzzle?"

Bella grins at me. "Easy. One of us gets the New York Times puzzle, one of us gets the Seattle Times. We trade back and forth on alternate days. Sound like an amicable custody arrangement?"

I hold out my hand to her, and we shake on it. I can't help but sense that we've just agreed to a lot more than sharing the morning paper.

We sit together working diligently on our respective crossword puzzles. Every now and then, one of us breaks the solitude, asking for an opinion on a clue. Thus, I'm caught a little off guard when Bella asks me a question completely unrelated to our present activity.

"Edward, what made you decide to become a doctor? I mean, you've lived with two medical professionals, you know what this is like. How hard it can be."

I nod my head in agreement. "Honestly, I've never seriously thought of doing anything else. I'm so proud of my father—he is such an incredible, compassionate, intelligent man. He's done so much good through his work. If I can capture just one morsel of that satisfaction for myself, and do good things for the world, I will die a happy, satisfied man."

"Mm. I know exactly what you mean. At the end of a shift, even though every last bit of energy has been stripped from me, I walk out the hospital doors and I feel so content. I know that I've contributed something meaningful, even if it was just to love a patient for 12 hours. It's a level of satisfaction I can't really describe, because it is so unique and intense."

"People ask me all the time how I do what I do—take care of kids who might end up dying. I really have no answer for them, because it is something I _have_ to do. I'm driven to do it. It's not even a choice—it's like a calling."

"Yes! My friends are always so worried about me; they're convinced that some day all the stress and sadness is going to cause me to lose it. They don't get it, though. When I'm at work, some kind of wall goes up in my brain that lets me deal with it all, and I've learned not to question its presence. I'm just grateful my mind is able to do that."

"I'm not going to lie; every time a kid dies, it wrenches my gut. I'm always certain that in some way, I'm responsible. It's something you never really get used to."

"I think that's just because you have a conscience, Edward. I'm the same way. If a patient I cared for gets septic, and I'm always certain it's my fault. Fastidious as I am, I'm still convinced I did it."

"I will tell you this, Swan—you are the last person in the world I would ever suspect of harming a patient, even inadvertently. You're positively meticulous and conscientious."

"Thank you for that. It means a lot to me that you value my skills, you know. There are some docs who will never respect me simply because I'm a nurse. You've always been so good at appreciating other medical professionals."

"Speaking of appreciating the medical profession, there's something I need to show you, if you're done with your breakfast."

She raises an eyebrow at me suspiciously. "Oh really?"

I lean in and give her a most convincing kiss. "Oh yes. I'm fairly certain it will meet with your approval."

"Well, my curiosity is definitely piqued so please, by all means, lead the way…"

**~xXx~**

I walk hand in hand with Bella into my room, where a black leather physician satchel is sitting in the middle of my bed. I took the time to fill it up with medical equipment and supplies in preparation for this presentation.

"This is a beautiful bag, Edward. I've never seen you use it before."

"My parents bought it for me when I got accepted into medical school. They were so happy for me."

"I'll bet. It's kind of like the family business, in a way."

"Exactly. But that's not what you should be focusing on right now."

She raises one eyebrow. "Oh? Care to enlighten me, doctor?"

"Yes, actually, I would."

I pull out the small envelope from underneath the bag and hand it to Bella.

She looks at me, eyes full of curiosity and questions.

"Go ahead, open it," I encourage.

Inside the envelope is a small white note card, with very careful instructions written on it:

_Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find 5 toys among this medical equipment, using your resourceful mind to create scenarios in which we can use them. You have five minutes, beginning RIGHT. NOW._

The grin that blooms on her face is positively delicious.

**END NOTE: Thank you to everyone who replied, letting me know your organ and/or blood donors. You are each heroes. For those who cannot, I so appreciate you wanting to be able to donate. You still get a gold star in my heart. A special thank you to dreampills for reminding me about the bone marrow registry. For more information, you can go to the National Marrow Donor Program's website, www DOT marrow DOT org**

**On the note of bone marrow donation, a story that is completely pwning me right now is "Dead On My Feet," by Cesca Marie. If you like my story, you will LOVE hers. It's a total gem.**

**For all you parka lovers out there, if you aren't yet reading MissBettySmith's "Full Disclosure," you should be. It's fucking brilliant.**


	20. The Imaginarium of Dr Cullen

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I can hardly believe that my little story has broken 1000 reviews! Never in my wildest dreams did I hope for so much. Thank you, everyone! Your reviews genuinely mean the world to me, and I reply as I am able. Trust, I appreciate every single one.**

**SPECIAL WARNING: This chapter contains an anal lemon. I appreciate that not all of my readers will be interested in reading this. As such, I have split the chapter into two smaller chapters. If you do not wish to read the anal lemon, please skip ahead to the next chapter—you will not miss any substantive content by doing so. If you do wish to read it, then by all means, have at it.**

**A special thank you to CoffeeluvaNZ for pimping this story on Facebook. Welcome, new readers! Thanks for joining us for the wild ride!**

**Things I own: A poolside margarita that is large enough for me to swim in. Um, strike that. It's gone now. *****burp*******

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Ladyeire72, for reasons unknown to me, continues to appreciate TNJ even in its rough and raw form, pre-reading whenever I need it. She is win and I love her.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who is the Lois Lane to my Clark Kent. **

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE IMAGINARIUM OF DR. CULLEN**

_Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find 5 toys among this medical equipment, using your resourceful mind to create scenarios in which we can use them. You have five minutes, beginning RIGHT. NOW._

I suddenly feel like the girl who won the lottery. I jump up from the bed squealing, and give Edward a bear hug. Clearly, restraint is low on my list of priorities for the moment.

"Oh my god, you are the most fuckawesome boyfriend ever!"

"Boyfriend, huh?"

_Fuck. Verbal diarrhea is very inconvenient._

"Yeah, sorry about that. My firewall must be down for repairs."

I start to turn my head away in complete and utter embarrassment, but I never get that far; his lips are there. On mine. Urgent, hot and wet. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I swing my legs up around his waist. I can feel his hard cock below me, and I want him so badly, I can't possibly wait another 30 seconds for him to get his boxer briefs off. Apparently, he's already there, because I'm suddenly slammed into the wall.

He grinds his cock into me, and it feels positively delicious. But it's what he says at that moment that sends me straight to nirvana.

"Fuck the firewall. I _loved_ hearing you say that. Do you have any idea how happy you make me, Bella? Did you really mean it?"

_Is he fucking high? In what world would I ever say no?_

Damn, I feel my cheeks flush. "Yes, I did. I'm just embarrassed to admit it."

"Swan, I don't think there is a single thing to be embarrassed about, this connection that we have. This kind of thing doesn't just happen, you know?"

"Yes, I know. But I don't want to talk; I want to fuck you senseless. Then talk. No words."

"I think I'm the one who will be fucking you senseless, but it's all just semantics at this point."

"NO."

_Grind._

"WORDS."

_Grind. _

He gives me a dose of crimples, which is all the fucking foreplay I need, then breaks our kiss to say something.

_Does this man not understand English?_

"The bag—"

I unwrap my legs and return to standing in front of him. I abruptly spank him to get my message across.

"NO."

_Spank!_

"WORDS."

_Spank!_

I wrap my fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers and fling them to the ground. The parka is loud and proud and directly in front of my face. I could be wrong, but I'm fairly certain my mouth just watered.

Before I'm even aware of what I'm doing, I push him onto the bed. In an instant, I hover over him on all fours. I look down at his cock, throbbing and hard, all for me.

I have an absolute need to take him in my mouth, but I want to appreciate the beauty that is in front of me first, offered up for only me to enjoy. I want to savor this body, claiming every square inch of it for myself. I'm Edmund fucking Hilary, and Cullen is my Everest. No one has managed to scale his heights and put their flag on top, but I can be tenacious when I need to be. He is mine alone, and I fucking want the world to know it.

I glide my hands over the surface of his skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I love the magic spell I cast over his body, the ability to make it react to me.

I brush across his nipples, watching them change shape.

I stroke the hair on his chest, running my fingers through it.

I look up at him, and he's in a world of his own. His eyes are closed, his face a study in contentment. I don't think he's ever been more beautiful before than this very moment.

Getting back to work, my lips travel along his happy trail, stopping only to nuzzle his belly button. I notice that the tip of his cock is _right there_. Purple and hard, waiting eagerly for my mouth.

His cock—_oh, that cock_! Beautiful, smooth, so hard I can see it pulsing every time his heart beats. Wanting me so much. Hard for me alone. His tip, now free from the foreskin, glistens with pre-come. The sight of his erection, ready for me, makes me feel powerful.

I feel slightly bad about falling in love with his penis, but it's almost as if it's an equal partner in our relationship now. Would I be as attracted to him if it wasn't so perfectly shaped? He was clearly of interest to me before I ever saw his penis, but I have to admit that once I saw it, it certainly sweetened the deal. I know that some guys are tit men and some are ass men. I might as well make it equal opportunity and call myself a parka girl. Why should the guys be the only ones allowed to be piggy and claim body parts for themselves?

I grab the base of his cock, giving it a few hard pumps before I let it go. I move my body down his, so that my mouth is right where I need it to be. Using only my nose and my lips, I move over his erection, up and down, with the lightest amount of touch. His hips buck in frustration, his penis twitches, but he doesn't complain verbally.

_Good boy._

I give his base another squeeze as a reward. The sound that escapes from his throat entices me to get right to work, but I remind myself that I'm Edmund Hilary for the time being, and I need to continue my process of scientific discovery. It's incredibly difficult to remain focused with this penis in my face; I'm only human, after all.

I move my lips down to his balls, lightly blowing on the skin. I absolutely love to see its involuntary reactions to my attention. I give them a slight tug, and again earn a buck of his hips. I run the tip of my tongue along the inside of his thigh then use my nails along the same path, and Edward suddenly gasps.

_Guess that's a hot spot. So worth growing my nails out for that one._

I finally can't stand it anymore, and return my attention to his swollen erection. God, he can get so hard! Of the many pleasures life has to offer humans, hard penises are definitely near the top. So sublime. There's really nothing quite like the feeling of an incredibly hard penis in your palm, in your mouth, in your pussy.

I nip the end of his tip lightly, followed directly with a circle of my tongue. I continue to circle lower, and lower, until the entire head is in my mouth, my other hand gliding up and down his length. I glance up at his face again, and he's still blissed out, hands wrapped in my hair, gently guiding me.

My pussy is so worked up from his beautiful cock, I can feel how wet I am. While I'm moving over his erection, I take a moment to dip my finger into myself. When it's good and wet, I go straight for his pucker, swirling it around. I gently slide it in, causing him to moan in complete pleasure. It makes me smile to myself. I find his magic spot, massaging it in time with my mouth on his shaft. His nearly instant reaction is to pant and moan, and I can tell he is nearly undone. I wait until he's completely inside my mouth, then I press down on his prostate. He comes moments later with a loud groan. I slide my finger out and wait for him to finish in my mouth, swallowing what he gives me. I wear it like a badge of honor, to be honest. It is a complete privilege to get him off.

Letting him relax into the moment, I roll off the bed and get up to wash my hands. The OCD nurse in me never goes off duty, of course. As I walk back to the bed, he turns to address me.

"Now, I was up to something before you so rudely interrupted my plans with an on-the-sly blowjob," he gives me a wicked grin.

I slide into bed next to him, cuddling perfectly into his side, as if I was made to fit there.

"You're complaining? Are you serious?"

He laughs and kisses my nose.

"No, any time you want to put my body inside of your body, it's all good. You just got me a little sidetracked is all. I don't know, there's something about my cock in your mouth that makes me lose brain cells."

"You know I love having that power over you. It's like a magic trick."

"Speaking of magic tricks, there is a bag of tricks that you are supposed to be attending to right now. Unless, of course, you'd rather spend the afternoon playing bingo at the senior center."

"Very funny, Cullen. Set the timer and get your ass out of here."

"I never said I was leaving. I fully intend to watch."

"That's because you're a demented perv. Now shoo! I need privacy!"

He makes motions like he's grumbling, but leaves me to my own devices for the next five minutes.

I unzip the bag and pour the contents onto his bed. I'm so excited about this I can hardly stand it. No one has ever treated me to a sex fest of this proportion, and it makes me fall in love with him a little more deeply.

_There. You thought it again. "Love."_

Is it love? Six months ago, the prospect of being in love would have scared the Dickens out of me. I've always been so proudly independent, just like my dad. I've never needed anyone. Edward Cullen, however, has insinuated himself into my life almost completely. In every possible way, he is just perfect for me. In fact, if I had to come up with a downside, I don't think I could at this point.

_Time's a-wasting. Figure out a plan, Swan._

It's annoying when your self-conscience is a bully. I decide to table the dissection of whether or not I'm in love with Edward Cullen and return my attention to the bag in front of me.

I take a look at the bag's contents. It looks like Edward raided his physician's instruments, and also the clean supply closet at work. It is 100% medical supplies.

_Shit, I'm never going to be able to look at any of this stuff innocently again! _

_Then again, that's fucking hot. Who cares?_

I shout out to Edward, "Hey, Cullen, how much time is left?"

"Are you giving in already?"

"Pffft—you wish! No, I'm planning my strategy!"

"Four more minutes. Use them wisely."

I snort to myself.

_That's almost like a dare, Cullen_!

The very first thing I lay my eyes on is a packet of KY jelly. I grab that and set it aside, starting my "TO KEEP" pile. One can never have enough lube, after all.

I take a peek through the instruments. There is a pen flashlight, but I can't imagine how that would be any fun. It goes immediately into the "NO WAY, NO DAY" pile. I see several kinds of tape—cloth, paper, foam. I place a roll of cloth tape into the "TO KEEP" pile.

_Cullen is going to tie me up, and I'm going to love it._

I clench my thighs together over the image in my head.

I see a reflex hammer, but I decide not to keep it and toss it aside. Underneath that, I find a Wartenberg wheel. It's what doctors use to test feeling and nerve response.

_Well, hello friend! You could be quite interesting!_

Yeah, Wartenberg wheel is a definite keeper.

I look at my "TO KEEP" pile—KY, tape, Wartenberg wheel.

_Shit, so many goodies, so little time. _

I continue on, looking at the remaining treats. I discard the stethoscope, the gauze squares, and the alcohol wipes. Cotton swabs? Hmm, those are a possibility. I put them in a middle pile, unsure if they will make the final cut. I see a facemask, the kind we use for sterile procedures.

_Makeshift blindfold, thank you very much!_

I grin as I put it in the "TO KEEP" pile. I can feel myself getting increasingly turned on, and Edward isn't even in the room.

_This is going to be so much fun. My boyfriend is an evil genius. _

I see a pair of Kelly clamps—they're like a pair of scissors, only instead of sharp blades, they're blunt with serrated edges, and they can be clamped shut. They're used to grip things, like unscrewing IV caps. I decide I'll keep those for another time.

_Because there _will_ be another time._

There is a small syringe filled with normal saline. The tip is blunt, and we use them like candy to flush medications through a patient's IV lines.

_What in god's name could he possibly think we could do with this? The fuck, Cullen?_

Then, it dawns on me. Normal saline is room temperature, which, when it hits the skin, feels cold. Also, it can be distributed drop by drop. Oooh, that could actually be really fun. I put it into the maybe pile.

I find a bulb syringe, like the kind you use to suck snot out of a baby's nasal passages. I pass on that for this round.

"One more minute, Swan!" I hear Edward warn.

_Dammit! There are still so many things to go through!_

I toss aside a small bar of soap and a toothbrush. Likewise, a pile of band aids and a tongue depressor. No baby lotion or body wash required, thank you very much.

"I'm coming in!"

"No! Wait!"

"I gave you _five_ minutes, Isabella Swan. I expect you to be ready for your examination."

Just the tone of his voice causes my skin to pebble. I quickly toss the normal saline syringe together with the KY, mask, tape, and Wartenberg wheel, and put it all inside the medical bag.

He stands by the bed, arms crossed. While he was waiting, he dressed into his scrubs and lab jacket. The one embroidered with "Dr. Edward A. Cullen" in red letters. Trying to look all gruff. Clearly, going commando.

_God help me, I'm already turning to mush. So fucking hot._

"This is my bag of supplies?"

"Yes, it is."

"Yes it is…?"

I look at him, confused.

_What does he want from me?_

He lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes it is, _Dr. Cullen_."

_OH, so that's how we're playing, hmm?_

"I'm so sorry. Yes, of course it is, Dr. Cullen."

He has become "Code Blue Dr. Cullen," and he is at his very finest. Normally, I'm a woman who _hates_ to be bossed around, especially by a doctor. There's something about Edward like this, however, that makes it so fucking appealing that I'm drenched the minute I hear his 100% serious business tone of voice.

He unzips the bag and dumps my toy selection onto the bed.

"Tell me about these items you've chosen for our procedure, Nurse Swan."

_Jesus fucking Christ, that man is so hot._

I clear my throat, not sure I'll be able to speak otherwise.

"Okay, first, doctor, we'll need some KY, because it's never bad to have extra lube handy."

"Well, that's true, Nurse Swan, but your pussy is always so wet, I'm not sure we'll need it. Go on."

He's got the fucking sexiest smile on his mouth, and I want to eat him alive.

_Except that I'm the one who will likely be eaten…_

"Okay, um, there is also a saline syringe, because you never know when you might need to cool off an area of skin that is overly heated."

He simply nods, silently allowing me to continue.

"This tape, it is helpful in restraining the wrists if a patient tries to move during the procedure."

"Well, you know we would never use tape restraints on a patient, Nurse Swan. We would have to use foam restraints to protect skin integrity."

I try not to grin. "Yes, I realize that, Dr. Cullen, but there are some patients who insist upon touching you while you work. We can't have that, after all."

"Of course not. You're absolutely right. I can see we're going to work well together—like minds."

"This face mask, well, it can be used in the event that a patient gets too frightened by the procedure—we can use it to cover their eyes, like a blindfold."

"Naturally, we don't want a frightened patient. Good thinking."

"Finally, we have the Wartenberg wheel, so you can test the patient's, uh, cranial nerve responses."

"Oh yes, that's probably the most important part of the procedure."

His eyes turn dark. "Isabella Swan, I think in order to perfect my technique, I'm going to need you to stand in as my patient. Do you think you can do that for me?"

I hear a whimper escape from my mouth.

"Of course, Dr. Cullen, anything you need. You know I'm always here to assist you."

"That's what I love about you—" he catches himself, and clears his throat.

I feel a dual surge of hope and arousal build in my chest.

"I mean, that's what I appreciate about your skills as a nurse—you're a most devoted assistant."

"I'm glad you think so, Dr. Cullen."

"I'm going to need you to lie down on your back, please."

"Yes, doctor."

I lay there, waiting for him. I can see his erection poking out from his scrubs, and it forces me to clench my thighs together once again in an attempt to achieve some much-needed friction.

"Please cross your wrists above your head, nurse."

I follow his instructions.

"Before I tape your wrists, you need to understand that if anything happens and you suddenly need this to stop, I want you to say the word 'red'. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course."

With my assertion, he starts wrapping my wrists with the tape.

"Are you all right? I didn't bind it too tightly, did I?"

"No, doctor. I'm fine."

_I may spontaneously combust, but yeah, my wrists are fine._

"I'm not going to put the mask on you yet, because there are a couple of things I want you to see first. Is that all right?"

"Yes, doctor."

I watch as Edward scans my body with his eyes, and they might as well be laser beams with their ability to melt me into a puddle of goo.

"I need to test a few of your bodily responses now."

I nod my head.

Leaning over me, he takes the very tip of my nipple delicately between his teeth; it's barely even in his mouth. He has avoided my piercings altogether. I watch closely, feeling him swirl his tongue around the top of it, his eyes boring directly into mine with a fierce intensity. He alternates between hard and soft pressure with his teeth, working me like a well-engineered German machine, driving me into oblivion—just where he wants me to be. He might as well be his Volvo, he's driving me with such skill and precision. Just when I think I can't handle another moment of teasing, he stops abruptly, moving off of the bed.

I watch him intently as he removes his lab coat, followed quickly by his scrub top, saving the best for last. I'm practically drooling by the time his elegant fingers reach the tie of his scrub pants, easily removing the tie. I can see the outline of his hardness underneath, and I want it. Now. As he steps out of the pants, his hard cock slaps his belly, and it is the essence of perfection.

He leans over me, straddling my hips. Taking his dick into his hand, he says nothing; he merely continues to stare at me as intensely as ever. He moves his palm up and down so perfectly, so effortlessly; I love to see this window into his soul. It's such a unique opportunity to see someone at their most intimate moment. Masturbation is, after all, a solo enterprise. It feels slightly naughty to watch him touch himself like this. Voyeuristic. That must be what makes it so fucking erotic. I swear to god, Edward Cullen's magic parka can get a woman off just by staring at it while he takes care of business. I love that he feels natural and comfortable enough in front of me to do this. Beautiful. I watch him closely, seeing if there is anything he does that I should pick up on for when I stroke him on my own. I want so badly to understand his body, inside and out.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me, you naughty nurse? How hard you make me, all the fucking time? I can't help but stroke my own cock at least once a day, you leave me so wound up." His voice has grown rough and raspy. "I'm like a goddamn teenager all over again. I want you to see the evidence of what you do, right in front of your face. To experience the frustration I feel every time I am unable to touch you."

He moves so that his cock is inches from my face, taunting me. I whimper.

"That's right, naughty girl. You're going to have to beg for my cock before you can have it again. I'm trying to teach you a lesson that you won't forget."

He stops stroking himself and leans over to grab one of my items. I cannot see which one it is from this angle. I feel myself shiver with anticipation.

He puts a hand on my cheek, running his thumb over my lips. "Don't worry. It will be a pleasant surprise."

He has the syringe of saline in his hand. I watch as his fingers delicately pluck the cap off. I can't even imagine what he is going to do with it. Suddenly, with no warning, he spurts out a quick stream of fluid. It lands on my stomach. I gasp at the unexpected sensation, earning a beautiful smile from my evil doctor boyfriend.

He moves the syringe over my cleavage, slowly coaxing a drop out. I can see the drop forming on the end, but I have no idea when it will actually fall. It dawns on me why Chinese water torture treatment is so effective. I'm a bundle of nerves, because I don't know what to expect, nor when to expect it. All I can do is watch, and wait.

Finally, it falls, cold spreading from the point of contact. My involuntary reaction is to shiver. The surface of my skin reacts, pebbling up in front of him. He continues the slow drops of saline on my skin, ending with drops to both nipples. Once they are wet and hardened into nubs, he blows on them, further intensifying the feeling. I'm a quivering mess by the time he sets it aside.

"It's time for your blindfold, nurse. Are you still okay?"

"Yes, Dr. Cullen. I'm very okay."

That causes him to smirk at me. I watch him place the mask over my eyes, until I can see nothing except the white cotton in front of me. I close my eyes, since keeping them open is pointless.

"I'm going to touch you now, nurse. Are you ready?"

_Fuck yes._ "Yes, Dr. Cullen, I'm ready."

"You always answer me so nicely. That is going to earn you a very good reward."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen. I love to please you."

"Oh, I don't think you understand just how much you please me, you naughty nurse. In fact, I'm finding it rather difficult to concentrate on my procedure, you're pleasing me so much."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. Should I do anything differently?"

He chuckles. "There is absolutely nothing you could do differently. I'm afraid you arouse me no matter what you do. It's highly distracting. That's why we need to practice this procedure before we do it."

"Whatever you wish, doctor."

"God, it is so fucking hot when you call me that."

"It's fucking hot to call you that, Dr. Cullen."

I feel his fingers on my lips, closing them. "Shh, naughty girl. We're not finished yet, and you're distracting me more than usual."

I nod my head to let him know I intend to be cooperative.

I feel something sharp and cool touch the ball of my foot. I gasp.

"You know what this is; don't be afraid."

I relax and he continues moving the wheel over the surface of my skin. I feel it on my arms, my legs, my hands, my abdomen. It leaves a prickly sensation behind that is… stimulating. I've never been exposed to one in this way before, and the combination of being unable to see and, thus, an enhanced feeling whenever it makes contact with my skin, is almost overwhelming.

Then, he rolls it down my cleavage. My back arches in response.

"Do you like that?"

"God, yes!"

I relax my body again, and I'm rewarded with the wheel on my breasts. I try very hard to be still, and to concentrate on how it all feels. I picture the prongs as tiny fingers, moving over my skin. It's amazing.

He moves it to my pussy, but limits the contact to my outer lips. I'm not sure if I'm ready for such a sharp sensation on the more delicate inner skin; he seems to understand that inherently.

He leans over and whispers into my ear. "We'll save that for another session, shall we?"

I nod my head in agreement.

He removes my mask, and I watch his fingers slide along my pussy, as he discovers how much I've enjoyed his attentions.

He speaks to me in a husky whisper, which does nothing to turn down the level of my excitement.

"You're so wet, nurse. Is it safe to say you find this sexually arousing?"

I manage a cough in response. "Fuck, yes, I think it would be safe to say that I am sexually aroused, doctor."

"And you thought we would need KY jelly."

"Well, not every orifice in the human body has the advantage of natural lubrication, you know, doctor."

He stops all movement, looking at me in amazement. I caught him off guard.

"What?"

"I said, not every orifice has the benefit of being lubricated naturally, Dr. Cullen."

"Yes, I know… are you implying…"

"Why do you think there are so many nerve endings in the anus? I mean, it's always puzzled me. Why would it need to be so sensitive just to eliminate waste?"

"Do you mean… do you want… ?"

"I want what you want, doctor. I was merely trying to be prepared."

"Fuck, Bella, really?" he says, breaking character.

"Nothing you don't want to do, of course. Only if you want to."

"Have you?"

I feel myself flush. "Yes, I have."

"And you like it?"

I turn my face away from him, suddenly feeling embarrassed and very exposed. Of course, he turns me to look at him directly. "Don't, Bella. Don't ever feel embarrassed in front of me. There is nothing you could ever say that I can't handle or don't want to hear."

"Well, it's kind of a big taboo for most people. But yes, I like it. A lot. It can be so incredible."

"Jesus, I swear you were made for me. I keep thinking it can't possibly get any better, and you keep proving me wrong. I've never met a woman who likes it, but _I _do. Very much."

"Well then, that's a relief."

"Swan, it's a hell of a lot more than a relief."

I just smile at him, happy to learn we have yet another aspect of our physical relationship that is tailor-made for one another.

Edward takes the KY packet into his hands, warming it up a bit before squirting it onto his palm.

_Yes please, oh yes please, oh please yes Edward_

"I haven't even started, baby."

_Firewallfail, once again._

"I happen to love when your firewall comes down. You say my favorite things."

All I can do is blush, so that's exactly what I do. Edward's answering grin is huge.

He starts circling around my throbbing clit with his thumb while sliding a carefully lubed finger over my pucker. All talk ends right then. My moan is so loud, I'm grateful we aren't anywhere where that can be easily overheard. Edward is practically beaming over my body's intense responses to him.

He replaces his thumb on my clit with his tongue, and I instantly appreciate the upgrade. It's better than being bumped to first class on a flight to Johannesburg! The sly devil quickly follows by sliding his finger into my ass, gently sliding it in and out. One more quick suck on my clit, and it's all over. The dual sensations are just too much on top of all the teasing, and my orgasm explodes with ferocity. He slides his finger out of me and lets my breathing settle, then gently removes the tape from my wrists. My eyes are closed in complete and utter bliss when I hear him washing his hands.

_God, we're such a perfect pair of anally retentive people. How apropos._

I watch as Edward walks towards the bed, and it strikes me, once again, what a perfect human specimen he is. There isn't a single feature I would choose to change, not even the big mole on his back. He gives me a smirky grin, knowing that I'm openly ogling his fine bod.

"Dude, I'm just appreciating the view. Nothing wrong with that."

"Did you hear me complain?"

"Nope. Just get your ass back in bed. I need you."

"How can you possibly need me? We've been at it for hours, and I just delivered a big, fat orgasm your way, young lady."

"Who provided you with the information that I only prefer one orgasm? If you're going to pay informants, Cullen, you should get your money's worth, just saying."

He flips a condom in front of my face, looking more serious.

"You really think you want to do this, Swan?"

I hear my breath catch in my throat. "Yes." My voice quivers more than I wanted it to.

"That didn't sound sure to me," he says, gently.

"It was excitement, not fear, that you heard."

"Okay, baby, I just want to be sure."

"It feels so safe with you, Edward. I trust you. I want you. I really want this."

"You have no idea how much I want this. I just assumed I'd never find a willing partner."

"Oh, I'm willing, all right." I reach down and palm his erection to prove my point.

"_Fuck_."

"Yes, Edward. _Fuck_."

To reassure him just how badly I want this, I pluck the condom from his fingers, and quickly slide it over his length. I grab the KY, adding the remaining contents to my palm, and rub it over his sheathed cock, causing him to groan. I turn around so that I'm on all fours, my ass right in front of his lovely erection.

"No, Bella, not like this. Not the first time."

"What? Why?"

"I need to see your face. I want to watch you come undone."

"Um, okay."

I turn onto my back. Before he does anything else, he leans over and gives me such an incredibly satisfying kiss, and I lose myself in it for a moment. It's that funny kind of magic Edward possesses. Any time he touches me, I have a tendency to get lost in the feeling, no matter what he's doing.

When he finally pulls away from me, he bends my knees, moving my legs upward. He slides his finger into my backside while rubbing my clit. He knows that there's a lot more to anal sex than ramming your cock into someone, and it makes me appreciate him all the more. He is an incredibly conscientious and attentive lover, on top of being amazing in so many other ways.

We both start breathing heavily, in anticipation of what is about to happen. I'm incredibly wound up, even though I just had a huge orgasm.

He looks directly into my eyes. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Just go very slowly. It's been a while."

"Of course I will."

We continue to hold eye contact as if that is the connection we need to make this work. He presses himself up against me carefully, easing himself inside. This is always the hardest, most painful part, no matter how often you've had anal sex. He knows this.

I breathe through the pain, feeling myself stretching slowly to let him in.

"Are you okay, Bella?"

I nod quickly. It hurts, but it's not overwhelming. He bends over to kiss me, and this one is definitely more passionate than the last. It's enough to distract me from the pain, and I feel the head of his penis pop past my tight muscle. I quickly suck in my breath in response, and he gives me a very worried look.

"No, it's okay, just stay put for a second while I adjust."

I give him a small smile, trying to convince him it's okay. He starts kissing me again, and damn if it isn't a great distraction. I'm all focused on what he's doing with his tongue when he starts to move, very, very slowly, to enter me.

He lets out a loud moan, and I can't fight the smile on my face. As much as I love anal sex for how it feels, it gives me just as much pleasure to see my partner enjoying it, too. For me, it's really something special, to share with someone special. There is no one better to share this with than Edward Cullen, of that I am certain.

"Bella, you are so tight. This is so amazing," he says, a look of pure pleasure on his face.

"Shh. I know. I know," I coo to him.

I reach down to touch myself, knowing it will only intensify what I'm already feeling.

When Edward sees what I'm doing, his voice sounds tight and tense. "Fuck, if I watch you touch yourself while I'm moving in you, I'm not going to last."

"Do what you need to do. Just enjoy this. Please."

With that, he starts to move inside of me just a little bit faster, and I feel the tension building in my abdomen. It's a completely different kind of sensation than my typical orgasms, because my entire torso is being stimulated. Different sets of muscles are involved, and the sensation is indescribably intense.

Even though I'm really trying to pay attention, my orgasm totally sneaks up on me, and I feel my muscles contract in the most delicious way. All I can do is gasp, and I know Edward can feel the tight clench when he yells out, "Jesus!" He moves a little faster, chasing after me; it doesn't take long before he joins me.

He huffs out his breath in spurts, chanting something that sounds like "never enough, never enough, never enough." As I feel him pulsing inside of me, he collapses on top of me, completely spent. His heart is beating so hard I can feel it reverberate on my skin. I close my eyes and simply soak up the perfection that is us.

When he finally slips from within me, he rolls over and wraps the condom in some Kleenex, setting it aside. He pulls the covers over our bodies and pulls me into a spoon. As we relax together, I remember his words from when he came: _Never enough_.

"Edward?" I whisper, softly.

He takes that as a cue to nuzzle into my neck, but I'm certainly not complaining about that. "Hmm?"

"What did you mean, 'never enough'?"

I can almost see his brain start to engage.

"Oh. I just felt like, in that moment, I will never be able to get enough of you. We could have sex together for the rest of our lives, and I feel like it would still never be enough. I don't think it's possible for me to get my fill of you, Bella."

I turn around and kiss him, my thanks for his kind words. "I know exactly what you mean."

**END NOTES: A Wartenberg wheel is an instrument doctors use to test nerve function. There is an image of one on my Live Journal page if you are interested in seeing what one looks like.**

"**No words" is for Lupin4tonks, who thinks my Edward and Bella need to stop talking and get down to business. **


	21. The Origin of Love

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: For those of you avoiding the previous chapter, this is the one you can read without worry. Promise. **

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. Neither do I own a four-day pass to Comic Con, as the website was total and complete FAIL today. *pouts***

**Thank you so much to Ladyeire72 for her patience with me. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who is just as delicious as the yummy treats she bakes. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY: THE ORIGIN OF LOVE**

_For those who did not read the previous chapter, Edward and Bella had some redhot smexytimes, and that's about all they accomplished. This here? Meat and potatoes time. They are relaxing in bed together in post-coital bliss after the epic smexytimes._

I hear Edward sigh deeply.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just completely satisfied at the moment. You are such an exquisite creature, Bella Swan."

"Not really; I just happen to be very in tune to my own body. I know what I like and dislike. It's simply far more important to deal with the 'likes,' don't you agree?"

Edward places my hand over his erection, and watches the satisfied grin bloom on my face.

"Yes, I agree."

Now that my hand is once again on his hard cock, I can't help but play around down there. It's his own fault; he has no one to blame but himself.

"I know that I tease you about it, but I am blown away by how much you love my cock, Bella. You give it such perfect attention. I can feel your adoration in every touch. Our bodies are perfectly in synch. Thank you for all of that." He places his hand over mine, and we both move over his length together, no real plan in mind.

"Most women are so confused by an uncut cock, they have no idea what to do. Here I lust after you for literally years, thinking you're the most amazing woman I've ever seen, and the first time you get your hands on me, you do the syringe thing? I don't think you understand how much that meant to me. You were already my dream girl. I literally felt like I was dreaming when you handled me so fucking perfectly. Goddamn, I love it. So much."

I start to giggle. He looks at me, brows furrowed, clearly confused.

"What?"

"I can't believe I thought you were gay at first. What was I thinking? You are always all over me, you horny man."

"Right, unlike you, who shies away from sex at every opportunity."

"Hey, I'm not going to apologize for being open sexually. It is life's greatest pleasure, and I openly admit to that. I refuse to play any of the usual sexual games that most women seem to enjoy."

"How many partners have you had, by the way?"

"Are we really talking about this?"

"Yes, we're really talking about this. It's important to know about one another's sexual history."

"Edward, you are well aware that I've had sex before, many times. The only explanation I owe you about my sexual history is what my status is regarding STDs and which method of birth control I use. You know that I am clean and that I'm on the pill; I know that you are clean. The only thing that matters is that we are exclusive, and that neither one of us have a plan to sleep with anyone else. I understand what I like sexually, and actively seek it out. Why the hell can't everyone just fuck and be happy? It isn't more complicated than that."

"Bella, it just bothers me that other guys have seen the intimate side of you. I'm selfish enough to want to keep that all to myself. Knowing that other guys have been there just bums me out."

"Don't you get it, though? No one has ever made me feel the way you do, Edward. My feelings, my responses, they're all uniquely yours. Those belong to you. Hell, _I _belong to you. How could I possibly want someone else, now that I've been with you? We're creating our own story here."

"I know it's irrational. I see that, but I still can't help feeling like this. I've always been open to women's sexual freedom, until I met you. Now all I want is for you to be _mine_."

"I just told you that I'm yours. All yours. If I didn't have my past experiences, I wouldn't be who I am today, and you wouldn't want me in the same way."

He looks at me with intensity. "No matter what your experiences may or may not have been, Bella, I guarantee that I would want you in _exactly _the same way." He pulls me in so closely I can feel his erection against my thigh.

"Then that's all that matters—who we are together, and what we want together. Just the two of us, exclusively."

"It isn't like I have any options here, Swan. I'd be lost without you. You understand that's what this all comes down to, right? A concern that you might choose someone else."

"You silly, adorable, frustrating man! What part of 'I belong to you' do you not understand?"

"I need to know who it was that turned you against dating doctors, Bella. Please. Knowing that there is some asshole out there who nearly ruined my chances of being with you is driving me to distraction."

My heart clenches, and it seriously feels as though it just broke. How can I possibly taint what I have with Edward by bringing up my past with that fuckhead?

The hurt look on Edward's face is what gets me. I guess I do have to tell him, but this is one door that I never wanted to reopen. Closing my eyes, I tell him my story.

"I met James McCullough during my clinicals on the neuro floor. He was still a first year resident at the time, but he always stood out. He was like the bad boy doctor—all the other nursing students were attracted to him."

"_McCULLOUGH_? You slept with that fucking English twat?"

"Please, Edward, just let me finish."

I feel him kiss my knuckles, and he sighs deeply. "I'm so sorry, Bella. Please go on."

"All the other nurses were flirting with him, and he was charming the medical students, too. He worked his accent for all it was worth. It's like he came complete with his own posse. I instantly distrusted him."

Being the kind, caring man that he is, Edward just squeezes my hand silently this time, allowing my story to tumble out.

"When I was the only nursing student who wouldn't flirt with him, he took notice. He started seeking me out, ending up in the same places as me, coming to see patients when I was in the room. Of course, I had no idea he was doing that. I would never presume that he would be interested in mousy old me."

"Be careful who you're calling 'mousy.' I happen to find you anything but," he tells me, kissing my forehead.

I give him a weak smile and continue.

"I was his biggest challenge ever; he treated it like a game. I'd never had many boyfriends, of course, so I was a little naïve at the time. I dated some guys in high school, but I was still pretty young and inexperienced."

"Did you lose your virginity to him, Bella?"

I feel my heart crush in my chest again. Tears start to fall from my eyes, completely unwittingly_._I hear my voice shakes as I start to speak.

"Yes."

"I'll fucking kill that bastard! I have always hated him!"

The look of anger in Edward's eyes scares me. I think he means every word. I put my hand on his chest to stop him. I notice that his fists are clenched, forcing his knuckles to turn white.

"Let me finish!"

He looks at me and gives me a curt nod.

"He followed me around and hunted me down, but never to the point of being creepy. He was always very careful to temper his attention so as not to arouse suspicion. It was flattering that he chose me over all the other prettier nurses in my class. One weekend, we ended up at the same party, and one thing lead to another, and we started making out. He was my first parka, I'm sad to say. We didn't have sex that first time, but I definitely got the lay of the land. He was so charming, and he made me feel so special, because he chose _me_ over all the other prettier girls.

"On the last Friday of our clinical rotation, the medical students and nursing students on the floor decided to go to happy hour. Naturally, James was there. I drank more than I should have, but we were all having so much fun. He was very tactile, focusing his attentions on me. When he kissed me in public, I was stunned. He led me out of the bar, to the back alley, and we started making out again."

Edward looks like he's going to vomit. I feel so ashamed to admit this to him, but I know I have to get this out. I take a deep breath before I continue.

"Before I knew it, he was unwrapping a condom. I tried to explain that I was a virgin, but he kept kissing me, so I couldn't get the words out. This wasn't the scenario I had in mind when I imagined losing my virginity. He wasn't the person I wanted to give my virginity to. I tried to push him away, but he didn't take the hint. I was too embarrassed to ever say no outright."

"He fucking _raped_you?"

"Calm down, Edward. No, he didn't rape me. I never told him no."

"He never fucking let you breathe, how the hell were you supposed to say no?"

"Believe me, had I wanted to, I could have said no. I just sort of gave up. I figured that since I had to lose my virginity sooner or later, this was an opportunity to do so. How many women's first sexual experiences are awesome and memorable? I don't think I've ever heard of one. So I chose to let it happen. I basically got it over with."

"I can see why you hate him, and don't trust doctors."

"That isn't why, Edward. It's part of the reason, but not the main reason."

"What the fuck else could he have done that's worse than that?"

"Once I had been conquered, of course, my appeal was gone. The next time I saw him, he walked right by me."

"That fucking fucker fuck—"

"That's still not it."

Edward is now rocking his body, punching his fist into the bed, trying so valiantly to contain his anger for my sake.

"It wasn't until my next clinical rotation that I learned about the true extent of the damage. Another med student asked me out, so I said 'yes.' He seemed nice, and I figured that I would have more control if we were on a date. I was eager to get James out of my head. When he came to pick me up, he basically started making the moves on me immediately. I was so confused. Why would someone treat me like that? I pushed him away from me and asked him to stop. He got angry with me and asked why I was being such a tease. I told him that I had done nothing to make him believe such things about me, and that's when he said it: 'Well, McCullough told me you were a hot and easy lay. I just wanna get fucked.'"

"Jesus Christ, Bella! That's awful! How did you not happen to mention this before?"

"Edward, it isn't like it was my proudest moment! I have no desire to advertise that particular event in my past. I simply vowed to never again date a doctor; I knew, no matter what, that I would always suspect that any interest in me would be due to what James had said. And don't worry about me—I made very good use of the defensive moves my police chief father taught me. The asshole walked funny for about a week after I was finished with him."

"How can you even talk to McCullough anymore? You still have to see him when he consults on neuro patients."

"Let's just say I'm older, I'm wiser, and living well is the best revenge. I have way too much self-respect to allow my life to fall to shambles because of that piece of slime. It was simply a mistake of youthful innocence, and now I know better."

"Is that why it has been so long since you've been with someone?"

"Yes. I'm extremely careful about who I let into my bed."

"God, Bella, I wish to hell I could take that away from you. I wish it had been different."

"You know what? I don't. Truly," I say as he scoffs at me. "I learned so much from that experience, and it allowed me to set my own rules about what I want and what I expect for myself."

"But he ruined your reputation!"

"Did he, really? Hell, no. So there was a bunch of stupid idiot med students out there who believed James McCullough for a few weeks. You better fucking believe that news of the other guy's crushed balls made the gossip circuit just as quickly. No one believed James after that."

"I've always hated that guy."

"Yeah, well, he became a neurosurgeon; that explains everything, right there. He doesn't have anything on me, Cullen, not really. He's a total idiot jerk, and I'm a strong, independent woman who knows what she wants now."

"He made my job a lot more difficult than it needed to be."

I laugh out loud at that. "What?"

"You were so resistant to me at first."

I nod my head in agreement. "It's true, I was. You scared the hell out of me. Remember, I've been dead set on remaining unattached. You were far too perfect. That's why I thought you were gay—no man could be that wonderful and be single without being suspect."

Edward laughs hard at the memory of my assumption. "Well, I quickly proved that I was neither gay nor perfect."

"Oh, I agree, you are definitely _not__gay_. The jury's still out on the perfect. To date, I haven't witnessed any signs of imperfection."

His face softens at my words. "No, Bella, you can't think that. How can we ever be together if you refuse to see me as the completely fallible person that I am?"

"You are never fallible with the important stuff, the things that matter. That's what I mean."

"Do you have any idea what it means to me to hear these things come out of your mouth? To be the object of your affection? It's almost too much. I will never do enough to deserve that."

I place my palms on both of his cheeks, looking directly into his beautiful green eyes to remain focused on what I need to say. I take a deep breath before I begin. I need to say what I have to say slowly and deliberately.

"Wherever you happen to be when you find love, or when it finds you, you cannot question it—you need to accept it. You have to grab it by the horns and embrace it. You never know who that one person is going to be for you until the very moment they arrive. Whomever it happens to be—there you will find your happiness.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, I love you. I accept and embrace that you are my happiness." I feel myself flush with my admission.

I hear Edward's breath escape, as if I've just let all the air out of a balloon. "What? Did I hear you right?" he whispers, unable to grasp those three small words.

"Yes, absolutely. It's true. It has been true for a long time. Probably since after the first code we did together. I took one look at you with the patient, and I knew. Even if I couldn't put the feeling into words at that moment, in retrospect, it was love. I do, Edward. I love you so much," I explain, quietly.

He shakes his head slowly, bit by bit, as I speak to him. It's almost as if he cannot hear what I am saying.

"You love me? How is that even possible?"

"I just told you how. It was you. It was always you."

"Bella, I've lusted after you since the first moment I laid eyes upon you. You were just a nursing student at the time. I've never told you this before, but I actually went to the school of nursing after I saw you, to find out your name. I was creepy enough that I took a picture of your picture so I could see you whenever I wanted to. I chose to become a Fellow in the PICU in no small part because of you. I want to become a PICU Attending mainly because of you. To hear you say the words 'I love you' before I even told you how much I've been in love with you, you have no idea what that means to me! Today will forever be the best day of my life, knowing that you love me, too. Oh my god, you _love _me!"

Edward has the goofiest look on his giddy face. He must truly be a social retard if he missed the cues of my affection for him. Hell, a blind man in space could have read my cues! To think that this started as a fight about how many sexual partners I've had, only to get to a point where we both professed our absolute love for each other. Apparently, wonders will never cease.

_I guess I owe James McCullough more than I realized. It's worth every bit of pain if Dr. Edward Cullen is what appears at the end of the rainbow._

We're holding each other's faces, staring at ourselves with googoo eyes, when Edward's phone rings. It's the _Doctor__Who_ theme music.

"Doctor Who?"

"Carlisle."

_Goddamn, I love this man exponentially more with each increasing second._

I can only hear Edward's side of the conversation, of course, but he basically reiterates everything he left in his e-mail. He confirms the pharmacy's findings regarding the syringe of morphine.

"No, Dad, you don't have to come home. McCarty can handle the investigation until you return. You guys just left!"

He's tugging at his hair in frustration, as if I haven't already messed it up enough.

"Well, yes, you are the Medical Director, but it isn't like we're going to catch her overnight. We could get a system in place to monitor her without you."

He opens and closes his mouth several times while listening to Carlisle's reasoning.

"Actually, I hadn't thought of that. That's kind of genius, Dad."

I can hear Carlisle laughing in the background. I can't wait to hear his thoughts.

"Do you need us to do anything special to make arrangements for your return?"

I watch as Edward jots down some information. I get slightly sidetracked by the way he holds the pen in his fingers. His hands are so ridiculously beautiful they almost look artificial. No one's hands are that perfect; it's seriously insane. I'm still staring when he hangs up the phone. He looks at my eyes, and sees what I was just looking at. He responds by bringing out the crimples.

_That__boy__has__no__shame,__using__the__crimples__with__such__reckless__abandon_.

"Well, I'm not happy about it, but my father insists on spearheading the investigation of Lauren Mallory. He wants to use your skills to catch her. You are going to follow Lauren on each of her shifts, so you can document any anomalies that should arise in medication dispensation and wasting. My parents are coming home almost immediately."

My suddenly heart aches in that clenchy way it's been doing lately; the sensation causes me to gasp.

Edward's face is a mask of concern. "What is it, Bella?"

"I'm not ready for this to be over yet. I think my heart just broke."

**END****NOTE**: **As an aside, the event between Bella and James in this chapter fits the definition of rape. The fact that Bella never said the word "No" doesn't imply consent. The only way to know that a partner is consensual is when they give a clear "Yes" to having sex. James also used physical force against Bella, especially when he kissed her in order to keep her silent. Bella was physically resisting him and her body language showed that she clearly didn't want sex. On top of it all, Bella had alcohol in her bloodstream, and an individual can be too intoxicated to legally give consent.**

**Bella has a different point of view on what happened to her, and in her own mind, it wasn't rape; Edward was technically correct in saying she was raped. I don't want anyone reading this story to believe that if they were in a similar situation to Bella, they weren't raped and thus, can't report it; her experience fits the legal definition of rape. If someone forces you to have sex when you don't want to, even if you don't use the word "No," it's rape. Clear and simple.**

"**Why can't everyone just fuck and be happy?" belongs to Ninapolitan; I'm just borrowing it because it is so awesome.**


	22. The Chief Complaint

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I continue to be complete fail with review replies, and I apologize. Every one means the world to me, and I'm giddy-thrilled that you are all enjoying this ride we're on. THANK YOU. **

**Things I own: Two new front clasp Spanx bras, courtesy of Nordstrom. OMG, they are so win.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who still had time to beta for me in between the business trip from hell. I'm sorry you got stuck, but thank you for your earnest efforts anyhow. You are made of win.**

**Thanks to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading, as always. I flove you.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE CHIEF COMPLAINT**

"Bella, what in god's name makes you think our staying together is over?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Your parents are coming home. We need to go back to our lives."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry—I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Why do we have to go back to our lives? Just stay with me. Please. It never occurred to me that you would want to stop."

"I _don't _want to stop, Edward. That's why I'm upset."

"Well then, it's settled. You'll stay with me."

"Really?"

"Swan, did we or did we not just profess our love for one another? I'm pretty sure I did, but maybe I'm having an out-of-body experience in another dimension compliments of my evil twin."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong."

I feel like she just stabbed me in the heart. Is she taking it back so soon?

"What?"

"_You're_ definitely the evil twin."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah? Then what does that make you, since I'm the evil twin who chose to fall in love with you?"

"Pfft, you should know by now that evil twins always seek out the good in the universe, attempting to corrupt it and usurp its powers."

"Oh, I definitely want to usurp whatever power you have over my cock. It seems to want you constantly."

I grind myself on her leg to prove my point.

"You are positively the horniest man I've ever known, Cullen. Your recovery time is unbelievable."

I turn my body a bit more, so that we're aligned perfectly. "You have yourself to blame, you know. I'm only like this with you."

"Oh, come on! As if you haven't been this horny your entire life."

"Are you being serious? Have you ever seen me pursue anyone else, in all the time I've known you? Is there anyone else who leaves me with a woody 24/7?"

"Is this a rhetorical question?"

"No, I fully intend for you to answer it."

"Dude, you're the one who's always going commando. I just assumed you were always listening to your dick."

I'm a little sidetracked by her neck, so I lean in to enjoy it for a minute. She lets loose a delicious, "Mmmm," followed up by an involuntary thrust of her hips.

_Yessss!_

_Where were we, again? Oh yeah, my cock_.

"I listen to my cock very closely, and all it ever wanted was you. Thus, I make my point." I grind into her again to emphasize said point. "It's all your own fault."

"When do we have to pick up your parents?"

"Wait, I thought we were talking about my penis…"

"I've told you this before, Cullen—the world does not revolve around your cock!"

"And I've told you before, that yours still seems to, regardless."

"What time do we need to leave?"

Why does she persist with these unimportant questions when there are bodies present that need to be satisfied?

I stop what I'm doing and look up at her. She has a determined, serious business face. I groan, knowing that this won't progress any further until we get the details out of the way.

_Dammit._

"My parents are taking a town car from the airport, so we don't need to pick them up. I haven't really thought about what time we'll leave. I'm assuming my dad will want to talk to us in detail about our findings, then my mom will expect us to stay for dinner. I'm sure we can just hang out here until we have to go to work on Monday."

"That won't bother your parents?"

"Of course not! They're always complaining that they never get to see me, and they'll probably want to see you even more. You have all the glitter of a shiny new toy, and the side attraction of being the first girlfriend of mine they've ever met."

"Did you have to remind me of that fact? Now I'll be all nervous in front of them again."

"Bella, it's just Carlisle and Esme. You've known them for years. They haven't changed a bit, except perhaps that they worship you even more now."

"All right, so here's my burning question: Is it okay if I make breakfast for you tomorrow morning? I have something planned."

"You sneaky dog! You weren't going to tell me about that, were you?"

"Nope, it was going to be a surprise, but now I have to make sure it's finished and cleaned up by the time they get home."

"You will have plenty of time to do that, and I'll help with the clean up, okay?"

"Deal. You have to promise to stay in bed in the morning, though, all right? Promise?"

"If that's what will make you happy, baby, I'll stay in your bed 24/7."

"Why do I have the feeling you would be there 24/7 no matter what?"

"Because you know me so well, I can't get any of my secret tricks past you anymore."

Finally satisfied that she has all her answers, she giggles and cuddles into me. I can't help but feel that this is exactly the way my world was meant to be.

Our conversation is broken by the sound of "I Fought the Law," the cover version done by the Clash. I see Bella's eyes grow large, and she blushes. I'm instantly dying to know who is calling her.

She looks at me, biting her lip on one corner—it's the Bella Swan Universal Sign of Nervousness. I'm not even sure if she's aware that she does it, but I noticed it a long time ago. It's the only outward sign she ever shows of nerves when something heavy is going down at work. It's an incredibly helpful barometer when you love a woman who tends to be rather shy about revealing her private thoughts.

"I really need to answer this, Edward. He doesn't call often."

_Hold on a second… he? HE? What the fuck?_

"Hi, Daddy."

I'm instantly relieved and shocked by the manner in which Bella answers her phone. I'm glad it's only her father, because the only men I ever want her talking to can be counted using some of the fingers on one of my hands. Her father? My father? Me? All good. Anyone else? Very _not_ good. I might one day include Jasper on that list, reluctantly, just because I know he is securely attached to Alice, and therefore, no threat to me.

I'm so surprised that Bella refers to her father as "Daddy." She doesn't seem like that kind of girl. I understand that they have a unique and strong bond because of the loss and grief they mutually share, but she has always referred to him as "Charlie" when we speak. To think that this very mature, very independent, very stubborn woman has a daddy almost makes me want to chuckle a little bit. She apparently harbors a soft spot for him, and it makes me fall in love with her a little bit more. She has such a depth of love and compassion, and it is clear that the few people she allows into her heart are ones that she holds very close.

I try not to eavesdrop, but it's rather difficult when you are sitting next to the person having the conversation. I wonder for a moment if I should leave, giving her some privacy. As if she's able to read my mind, she grasps my thigh, indicating that she wants me to stay.

"I've been pretty busy lately. I know. So, you got my last message?"

She's still biting her lip. I wonder what she's nervous about. It's only her dad, after all.

"Yes. It is. Very serious."

She darts her eyes away from me when I look at her. Not knowing what is being said on the other end is killing me.

"Well, you know I don't say stuff like that easily."

I hear laughter on her father's end.

"Daddy! Don't tease me! You know how hard it is for me!"

She's blushing. God, the suspense is driving me insane!

"Um, well, he's right here, actually."

_What the hell?_

"Sure. No, it's Edward, Dad, not Edwin. No one calls their kid Edwin anymore, for crying out loud!"

She hands me the phone.

_Fuck, I have to talk to her dad? I am so not prepared for this._

"Go ahead, Edward. It's okay. He just wants to meet you."

I whisper to her, "What does he know?"

She beams a smile to me. "That I'm in love with you, and that you're the most important man I've ever met."

_As much as I love hearing those words from Bella's mouth, I understand that they will instantly put any protective father on the defensive. _

"Hello, Chief Swan. This is Edward Cullen. I'm pleased to meet you, sir."

"How long have you known my daughter?"

"Oh, ah, let's see… well, we met back when I was in medical school, so I've known her for several years. I started to work in the PICU as a fellow about a year ago. We've only recently become intimate."

_Oh jesusfuck, please tell me I did not just use the word 'intimate' in response to my first question from Bella's father!_

He clears his throat. "Did you just say 'intimate,' son?"

Of course, he hones in on that one word; I'm totally fucked in the ass here. Time to start my tap dance routine.

"What I meant, sir, is merely that we started dating recently. We were friends and colleagues for a while before we discovered that we were interested in each other."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"She tells me that you've been treating her right, but I'm not one to simply take my daughter's word for it. She tends to be a little too forgiving with people."

"I agree with you on that assessment, Chief Swan. I will let you know that I've never met anyone like your daughter. She is an incredible and intelligent woman, extremely important to me. I promise you, I will take good care of her."

He chuckles in response to my statement; I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing.

"How well could you possibly know my daughter if you say something like 'I will take good care of her'? She isn't one to let _anyone_ take care of her, you know. She's as stubborn as a mule about things like that."

It's my turn to chuckle. "Trust me, sir, I've learned that the hard way. It took me a long time to convince her that we should date. I think, however, that you could take solace in the fact that she has chosen me. You know as well as I do, she doesn't make any choices such as this lightly."

"I'm aware of that, yes. It's the one thing you have going for you here."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm a doctor; I make a very good living. My father is the medical director for our hospital. Our family is well established in the Seattle community. I have a lot to offer your daughter aside from her having chosen me."

"I'm well aware of who you are, Cullen. I'm just saying that while you have something going for you, I'm going to need you to prove yourself to me above and beyond Bella's acceptance of you. My little girl means the world to me, and so help me god, if you don't treat her right, or you hurt her in any way, you and I are going to have some unfinished business. Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely. I have no plans to make any of my business with you unfinished." I stop and take a deep breath, because I have no idea how my next words are going to be taken, but I know they need to be said. "I love your daughter, sir, and she loves me. I am going to do whatever it takes to be worthy of that love every moment she allows me to be part of her life. I should also let you know that if I have my way, she is going to be part of my life for the long haul. It is only right that you understand that from the beginning."

I glance over at Bella, searching her face for a reaction. It wasn't my intent to make my long-term plans for her public knowledge, but her father kind of forced my hand. I'm deathly afraid of scaring her away. Her answering flush and beaming smile reassure me tremendously.

"Hmm," Charlie huffs out. This man certainly isn't verbose. He's just as careful as Bella when it comes to talking about feelings. "Why don't you hand the phone back to my daughter?"

"Of course, sir." I hand over the phone, and Bella looks surprised.

"Daddy," she scolds in a loud whisper. "You did not need to give him the second degree! He is a medical professional, not someone I picked out of a line up! Give me some credit, please!"

Her defense of me makes my heart soar. The more she metes out details about how much she likes me, the giddier I become. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined she could fall for me just as hard as I've fallen for her. I've been in love with her for years, after all, so I expected her to take her time to warm up to me. I'm not sure my life could become any better than it is at this very moment.

"Yes, Dad…" she whispers with a grimace. "But next time, you _will_ be nice to Edward. He's very important to me."

She ends the conversation with a huge roll of her eyes. "I love you, too, Daddy."

She breathes in and out deeply after she hangs up the phone.

"Edward, I'm so—"

I don't let her finish her answer. I'm far too thrilled to bother with mere words, when lips can answer each other with much a more satisfying type of communication. I tell her everything with my kiss—how much I love her, how deeply I continue to fall in love with her every day, how beautiful she is, how much I'm touched by her love and respect of her father, how much I meant every word I just said to Charlie. I want her to understand how much it means to me that, for some amazing reason, she loves me just as much as I love her.

Bella lies down on the bed, bringing me along with her. Naturally, I have an erection that rivals the Empire State Building, but for once, I'm not focused on it whatsoever. All I want is to feel the lips of the woman I love on mine. She's making a combination of slight moans and gasps, and between the kiss and the noises, I am convinced that she fully understands what my lips are telling her. She spreads her legs apart, and very gently, very deliberately, pivots her hips so that I slide right into her, slowly and perfectly.

I understand what her body is answering to my lips. I start to move in her, slowly and evenly, just absorbing the pure sensation of love that we're screaming at one another. This form of sex really has little to do with the immediate eroticism of two bodies moving together. It's all about communication, the need to be as close as we possibly can, in a way that words could never even begin to express.

We no longer kiss. As I move in her, we just gaze into each other's eyes. It's as if our minds are wide open to one another, and I can hear every thought in her beautiful brain. Her breath hitches, and she clenches around me in a drawn out orgasm. I watch it bloom on her face, and I know she will never be more incredible to me than in the moment when she comes. She is the personification of glorious. She watches my face just as closely as I come in her a few moments later, and she cups my cheek, smiling.

When my penis has completely returned to its flaccid state, I reluctantly slip out of her, and she releases a long sigh. I turn to my side and pull her body as close to me as I possibly can, and we drift off to sleep.

**~xXx~**

I startle awake to the sound of a text arriving on my phone. It must be Carlisle, giving me an update regarding their plans.

**_U can come up now._**

Bella.

**_I thought u were coming down? - E_**

**_Changed my mind. -B_**

**_Meh. I'm tired. I'll be up in an hr? –E_**

**_ASS UPSTAIRS NOW, CULLEN! _**

God, I adore pushing that woman's buttons. I slide on my boxer briefs and head to the kitchen. What I see when I enter the room stops me dead in my tracks.

Bella, in an apron.

Correction: Bella, in an apron, _and nothing else_.

I move in for the kill almost instantly. My hands go straight for her ass, and I catch her off guard. Her surprised squeal makes me smile.

"How did you sneak up on me so fast?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to tell you, because that will ruin any future fun I get to have with it."

"Well, I have breakfast ready, but you get to have a choice here. Choice number one: Eat breakfast. Choice number two: Lick the strategically-placed brownie batter off of me, then eat breakfast. Choice number three: Just fuck me on the counter top."

_This woman is going to be the death of me, swear to god._

"Swan, I would think you know me well enough by now to understand that my response will be 'all of the above.'"

"Did I say that was one of your available choices?"

"Somehow, I don't think you will mind. Where is this brownie batter? Do I get to put it on _and_ lick it off?"

I'm already starting to untie her apron, because that shit is just going to be in the way of me and my prize. She's trying to slap my hands away, but I'm a starving man, and she's my buffet. She doesn't stand a chance against me here.

I watch as she scoops her finger through the batter, then slides it into my mouth. She slowly withdraws her finger, and repeats the process, following it up with a deep kiss.

"Mmm, you always taste so yummy, Edward."

"It's just because you make me taste like that, baby."

She reaches down and palms my cock; my hips thrust, attempting to increase the level of friction. Just as quickly, she moves her hand away, and I miss it at once. I'm just about to complain, when I watch her take the spoon from the bowl and smear batter over both of her nipples.

_Yes, please!_

I practically dive onto the first nipple, licking and sucking greedily. It's almost a shame to ruin her natural taste with brownie batter, except that now I get to enjoy them both, together at the same time. How can I possibly lose in such a scenario?

I feel her hands weave into my hair as I work diligently to ensure both nipples are completely free and clear of any brownie batter. I'm especially thorough around her piercings, because it would be a true shame if those fuckhot blue barbells were ruined in any way, shape or form. I am impeccably meticulous.

"Oh my god, your tongue is pure magic!" she gasps.

While she is preoccupied with my attention to her nipples, I run my own finger through the batter and slip it into her mouth. She cleans it as if she's dealing with my cock, and it only serves to make me harder. Once my finger is clean, we share another deep, delicious kiss. I feel her perfect hands move over my balls and I moan into her mouth.

I move my hands down to her hips, ready to hoist her up, because I need to have her pussy closer to me. She did mention something about fucking on the counter top, after all. Before I can get her body in motion, she gives my balls a tug, which distracts me momentarily. She quickly kneels in front of me, grasping my erection with her hand. She's rubbing my cock over her face, and the view I have is divine.

I'm watching her closely when she looks up into my eyes. She's so fucking beautiful, I can't stand it. Her deep brown eyes kill me. As I wind my hands through her brown curls, I'm completely unprepared for what she blurts out next.

"Oh my god, I need a new knife!"

My balls react instantly by pulling up into my body. "What? Now? Why?"

Her entire face and chest flush red. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up when your cock was almost in my mouth!" she giggles out her explanation. I'm not nearly as amused as she is. "I just remembered that I broke one of your parent's knives when I was preparing breakfast. I want to buy them a new one before they get home."

The relief in my body is instantaneous. For a split second there, I was worried that Bella wanted to start practicing her vasectomy technique. While my junk loves her just as much as I do, it wasn't particularly keen to be the next John Wayne Bobbit.

"Your concern over the knife has been duly noted. From now on, however, I would prefer that you leave thoughts about sharp objects in a separate corner of your brain than my junk."

"Edward, do you really think I would do something to mar your Michelangelo-worthy, C5, parka peen? Let me assure you, that is never going to happen. Your parka and I have a really good thing going here."

"How about you two spend some quality time together then?" I reply, finally getting her up on the countertop.

She grins with delight. "Why sir, I thought you'd never ask."

I reach down and slip my fingers through her lips. "I love how you're always so ready for me, baby. I really want to fuck you right now."

"You're doing that thing with the words again. Quit with the words, and start with the peen."

I love it when she gets all horny and demanding. "Always so anxious for the main event, my pervy girl." I'm slowly dragging my cock through her wetness, teasing her by barely slipping my head into her.

"I can go relieve myself, you know! I don't have to put up with this teasing nonsense!"

"Don't you fucking dare," I growl out as I thrust into her at last.

I'm rewarded with a sigh that can only be described as pure pleasure. I feel exactly the same way. Being inside of her like this is so much more than just sex. It's becoming our preferred way of communicating with each other, but on a more unique level. Our bodies are definitely speaking the same language; while the words aren't there, the meaning is clear. There is never again going to be anyone who can connect with me like this. There is only one body that sings to me, and it's Bella's. I'm hooked, and my only fix is to be inside of her. She's my new dealer, my own personal brand of heroin. I don't anticipate that changing. Ever.

I move in her, silently, watching her face react to our movement. She sets her arms behind her on the counter, then leans her body back, allowing me to thrust into her more deeply. Our eyes are locked on each other and I realize that, in this moment of profound connection, we're truly making love, in every sense of the word. My heart feels so full and happy, I'm sure it will burst. I lean over and take a nipple into my mouth, and her back arches into me. Without warning, I feel her tighten around my cock.

"Oh!" She's just as surprised as I am. I didn't even need to rub her clit this time, she did it all on her own.

_This woman is fucking perfect._

My own orgasm explodes, and the dual feelings of pure pleasure combined with intense love overwhelm me. Loving Bella somehow makes everything we do together so much better. I never imagined that being inside of her could ever improve, but it has. As cheesy as it sounds, making love is so much more satisfying than having sex. Nothing will ever be the same again, in the best of ways. I need to make sure she truly understands this profound change in me.

"Bella, I can't even express how much I love you."

She just smiles and leans in to kiss me. While she doesn't speak any words, that doesn't mean she isn't answering my proclamation.

**~xXx~**

When we finally sit down to eat, we're both famished. I think back over the weekend, and we most definitely focused on aerobic activity to the detriment of our stomachs. She has prepared a quiche of some sort, fresh fruit, and some homemade chocolate bread.

"Bella, where did you find all these ingredients?"

"I asked your mom to store them for me so I could surprise you."

"You colluded with my mother?"

"Yes, I did," she giggles.

"Oh god, just what I didn't need. My mom now has a willing partner-in-crime. I'm going to be ganged up on the rest of my life."

"Yeah, well, better get used to that. I don't have any intention of stopping."

She's so adorable, I have to lean over and kiss her. "I love you, Bella Swan."

"I love you, Edward Cullen."

Still makes my heart beat faster every time I hear her say those words. I don't think I will ever get tired of that.

I sip my coffee with one hand, while reaching out to hold her hand with the other. We're enjoying some more of our companionable silence, relaxing into our feelings of love. My mind wanders to my parents, wondering how soon they will arrive, and I imagine what my conversation with Carlisle will be like. I realize that while Bella and I have discussed the hows and the whens of Lauren's narcotic theft, we've never talked about her motivations.

"Bella, why do you think Lauren is doing this?"

She looks at me, thinking before she replies. "I've asked myself that question a lot. It's hard for me to imagine, because that kind of behavior is really the antithesis of all a nurse stands for. We represent caring, compassion, nurturing. It's bad enough to steal narcs from an adult. But to steal from a kid? One who can't even communicate in words how bad their pain is? I have no idea what would drive a person to do such a thing."

"Well, she's clearly either motivated by addiction or financial needs. I find it hard to imagine that she would do it just for the thrill of getting away with it."

"Most nurses who do end up stealing narcs are doing it because they're addicted, it's true. I just find it hard to believe that Lauren is a user, though. She doesn't act like she's under the influence at work. I've never seen any evidence of track marks, but she could be hiding her injection sites under clothing. She's always been incredibly conniving. It could be financially motivated, of course; that's probably her primary motivation, if I had to guess."

"Does she seem like a mentally stable person to you?"

"In what way?"

"Well, like her anger level, for one thing? Does she ever get angry in front of you?"

Bella snorts at my question. "Yes, it's like her baseline. She gets pissy about everything."

"What about her work relationships? How does she get along with her colleagues?"

"Aside from Jessica, she treats everyone with disdain. In fact, she and Jess were inseparable until this whole incident in Leavenworth took place. It was kind of creepy, the way she turned on her in order to get closer to you that day."

"Didn't Jessica tell you that she didn't deliberately take benzos? And that Lauren was fit to be tied and really upset with her about what she said that day?"

"Yeah, but that's just how Lauren is. Her moods shift on the change of a dime. She always plays the victim in any circumstance."

"I have another theory."

"You mean something besides addiction or financial incentives?"

"Yeah, or maybe even in addition to those."

"Like what?"

"I'm not a psychiatrist, but something tells me that Lauren may just have Borderline Personality Disorder."

"What made you think of that?"

"Well, I've been incredibly disturbed by her ability to drug her so-called best friend; there's something that just doesn't sit right in that scenario. So, I started to think a little more broadly. Individuals with BPD often feel misunderstood or mistreated by everyone around them. They tend to have intense friendships, characterized by jealousy and anger on one hand, and idealistic admiration on the other. They often accuse friends of not caring for them. They usually don't have qualms about hurting themselves, or inflicting pain upon others whom they feel have wronged them."

"How do you know so much about BPD? It isn't like lots of peds patients have it, after all."

"One of my primary patients when I did my psych residency had BPD. She was very manipulative—trying to be incredibly charming in order to get what she wanted. When charm didn't work, she turned on you, and would threaten to do terrible things in order to get her way. Their most common attribute is self-mutilation and suicide attempts that are more like cries for attention than they are about wanting to end their life. It's really about making people suffer and feel pain because of a perceived wrong they've committed."

"Come to think of it, that sounds a hell of a lot like Lauren Mallory. Especially if Jess was trying to warn us about the ativan."

"Exactly. Do you think I should bring this up to my dad when we meet with him?"

"Well, I don't see how it could hurt. It does make a lot of sense, in the scheme of things."

"Do you have any idea how cool it is to be able to just bounce shit like this off you, and have you join right in the conversation? I love the fact that you're a nurse, and a damn good one."

"Yeah? Well, Dr. Cullen, you're pretty fucking cool, yourself."

"Let's get this stuff cleaned up before my parents get here, okay?"

"Sounds good."

She turns to walk away, clad only in an old t-shirt of mine and panties. Those cheeky little panties she loves to wear that drive me fucking mad. I just had her less than an hour ago, but the view I'm appreciating makes me want her all over again. I jump out of my chair and come up behind her, trapping her between myself and the sink.

I wrap my hands on her ass. "I'm so used to being able to grope you freely, I don't honestly know how I'm going to keep my hands off you once my parents arrive."

"Oh my god, Edward, you have to promise me that you won't! I'm already nervous enough!"

"I told you, my parents adore you; they understand that people who are in love have sex, Bella."

"I just don't want to think about that or go there with your parents. Please understand."

"Well, I will do my best, but the second your tits start winking at me, all bets are off."

"You are totally imagining things! My tits do _not_ wink."

"Trust me, Swan. They wink. Especially when you wear that blue bra."

Fuck, just thinking about that bra is making me hard. Well, it could be that along with the fact that I'm groping her ass and rubbing my cock into her.

"I'm going to need to have a talk with that perfect peen of yours, or it's going to embarrass me to death in front of your parents."

"My dad is European; he's very open minded about that kind of stuff. Besides, he has no business getting upset about anything you and I may be doing together, because he is all kinds of guilty of the same offences."

"I so do not need to be talking to you about your father's sex drive moments before they are due to arrive home."

"What are you being so squeamish about?"

"Cullen, do I need to remind you that my mother died when I was a young adolescent, and I was subsequently raised by a single, extremely terse, police chief father? There was no talk of sex, ever. Except when my dad pointed out that I was never supposed to have it, even when I got married."

_She's so fucking adorable when she's flustered._

"Well, in my family, we're all medical professionals, and we understand how the body works, especially when a male body and a female body happen to be in close proximity to one another, as they are right now. We're very free and open with the sexual talk here."

"You need to understand it is going to take me a while to get warmed up to that concept. My experiences were the polar opposite of yours."

I turn her around so that she's facing me, and catch her in a slow, easy kiss. The kind that says, "I'm here for the long haul. You can expect kisses like me every day, usually as a precursor to more intense physical activity. Get used to it."

_My lips know exactly what they're talking about._

I reluctantly end the kiss and get Bella down to my room so that we can put some clothing on before my parents arrive. Very reluctantly. Especially when she puts on her blue bra and a tight pair of shorts. That kind of clothing was designed to come right back off again, I'm certain of it. Bella merely swats my hands away, then jumps across the room when she hears my parents enter through the front door. I just laugh at her and head up to greet them.

**END NOTE: The "I need a new knife!" phrase comes straight from devoted reader Alienated_Za. Mr. Alien's peen has now been eternally preserved in the pages of fanfic.**


	23. Keep Your Eye On The Prize

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I apologize for the length of time between posts. My grandma recently passed away, and I had to go out of town emergently. She was very old, it wasn't unexpected, but it is still a lot to deal with during a very busy time of the year. The good news is that this chapter is longer than usual.**

**Things I own: ZERO four-day passes to Comic Con 2011, due to the CONTINUED FAIL of EPIC Management. Yes, I am bitter about it. *pout* **

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to my ladyeire72, whom I flove most dearly, for pre-reading and providing feedback on plot. She is a most valuable asset, and I treasure her. Hangover and all.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who, for twelve months, has held me to my New Year's resolution to listen to her. This will be the first one I ever kept for an entire year. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE PRIZE**

I follow closely behind Edward, my heart still pounding from the anxiety of nearly being caught in the act. I hear his calm voice addressing his parents.

"Hey guys, welcome back. Sorry you had to basically turn around the minute you got there."

"Edward, I'm a doctor. I understood a long time ago that this profession is full of lessons in delayed gratification. We'll return to England as soon as we straighten things out here."

Edward moves toward his mother, enveloping her in a big hug. "Mom, you look exhausted. Do you need to go lie down for a little while? Bella and I got dinner prepared so you don't have to worry about it tonight."

"I can't tell if I want to fight through it, or if I want to take a quick nap. I had plans to order in tonight, so I'm grateful I don't need to worry about that. Thank you so much, both of you."

I nod my head and smile at her as Edward returns to my side. I find it alarming that in the brief moment we were physically separated, my body missed his touch. The instant he returns, the ache is gone. How can I possibly need him this much?

"Well, I'm just going to debrief with the kids. If you want to nap, that's fine, love."

Carlisle is so tender with her. It makes my heart warm to see such strong evidence of their love, even though they've been married for years. I wonder if Edward understands how lucky he is to have parents who are so committed to one another; it's so rare these days.

"All right, then," she releases a heavy sigh. "Will you bring the suitcase up now, dear?"

If I'm not mistaken, Esme has given Carlisle a coy look, and he is instantly behind her on the stairs.

_You go, Esme. Hit that hot doc. _

The second his parents turn around, I find Edward practically engulfing me.

"Uh, what part of 'it's going to take me a while to get warmed up to that concept' did you fail to understand?" I whisper.

"I seem to recall warning you that I didn't know how I was going to keep my hands off you, even when my parents are here."

One look at his earnest face, and I'm toast; like I could ever resist this man's charms. I heave a deep sigh of surrender and plant my lips on his.

We haven't even made it farther than the front entry when we hear Carlisle clearing his throat. Of course, we are also tangled together in a compromising position.

_THIS is what I was talking about, Cullen. MOR-TI-FI-CA-TION._

I notice that Carlisle's hair is distinctly less groomed than it was when he arrived. I can hardly blame Esme; all Edward has to do is look at me and I jump him. These Cullen men are _highly_ irresistible. I sincerely hope that Edward and I are still all over each other when we get to be their age.

I take myself by surprise with that admission. I wonder—do I really believe I'll be with Edward that long? The answer my heart gives me is _yes_, but my head isn't entirely convinced.

"I would very much like to debrief with the two of you, but if you'd rather do it at another time, I'll understand."

Edward's recovery time is phenomenal. He shifts gears seamlessly from the kiss to his father. "No, no, we're fine," he looks me in the eyes to make sure that I truly am fine. I nod my head furiously in agreement, even though I feel the heat burn on my cheeks.

"All right, then. Shall we go to the kitchen?"

"Oh, actually, that will be perfect, since I have a pie in the oven. I can keep an eye on it while we talk."

"You made a pie for us, Bellar?"

"Yes. It's a family recipe."

"Dad, you are going to go mad over her pie, I swear. Best thing I've ever eaten."

I give Edward a dirty glance behind Carlisle's back.

_Is he trying to make me blush again? _

I shrug my shoulders. "It's not really a big deal. We just had a bunch of fresh cherries, so I decided to put them to good use."

My mind drifts back to preparing the pie.

"_I need you to pit the cherries for me, Edward."_

"_You want me to do what with your cherry?"_

"_You're a regular comic genius, Cullen. Brav-o."_

_I decide to punish him for being cheeky._

_I bite into a cherry, deliberately allowing the juice to run down my chin. I see Edward's eyes go a bit wonky. I use my pointer finger to wipe off the juice, then put the entire finger in my mouth. I add in a few porno-sounding noises, just for effect. _

_Before I even have the chance to take another bite, Edward pulls my finger out of my mouth and his tongue follows the juice trail up my chin and onto my lips. I eagerly respond to his kiss; my body is on automatic pilot whenever Edward touches me. _

_Hang__on__a__tic_, I'm_supposed__to__be__seducing_him_,__damn__it!_

_When he removes his lips from mine, I bite another cherry in half, and remove the pit. I then place each half over my nipples._

"_God, it was a stroke of inspiration that I had when I asked you to bake the pie in your birthday suit. I'm so glad you didn't have to mess up my mom's apron with cherry juice."_

"_Yeah, Cullen, what a surprise. You prefer me naked. This is a true and meaningful revelation."_

_I watch his tongue snake out and grab a cherry half. He promptly swallows it, then licks off any remaining juice. Dr. Edward Cullen is nothing if not thorough. His attention to detail is painstakingly good. Once he has cleaned my right nipple to his satisfaction, he continues with the left. _

"_Jesus, so good," I pant. "I might have to walk around with cherries on my nipples from now on." Edward just chuckles, and continues heading south._

"_Uh, I'm supposed to be making pie here, remember?"_

"_Yes, I'm working on my own piece of cherry pie at the moment."_

_I gasp as he sucks my clit into his mouth. Why in god's name am I trying to be a taskmaster right now? My brain requests that I let the master work on his canvas without further ado. My body complies most willingly. _

_I__look__down__at__him,__working__me__so__diligently,__his__hair__a__tangle__of__gorgeous__messiness.__It__'__s__incredible__that__this__is__somehow__happening__to__me.__This__amazing__man__has__my__pussy__in__his__mouth__willingly.__He__wants_me_.__Just__as__I__'__m__about__to__come,__he__looks__up__at__me,__his__long__lashes__framing__eyes__that__are__full__of__so__much__love.__That__image__pushes__me__over__the__edge,__giving__me__yet__another__mind-blowing__orgasm.__As__I__'__m__gasping__and__panting,__our__eyes__are__locked,__and__I__know,__I__fucking_know_,__life__will__never__get__better__than__this._

I'm not going to be able to serve this pie with a straight face. I can feel my cheeks burn from the memory, and Edward gives me a smirky grin. He knows exactly what I was just thinking about.

**~xXx~**

I brew a pot of French press for Carlisle, to help him stay awake as we begin to tell him the entire story about Lauren and Jessica. We explain what happened to Jessica on the rafting trip, her tox screen results, Lauren collecting all the narcs to be wasted, and the little patient whose morphine drip was actually normal saline. Carlisle mainly nods his head, asking questions here and there for clarification. Taking notes. I smile secretly when I realize that he's totally doing an assessment—looking at the problem from head to toe, as if it is a patient. That's the way his brain is programmed to view a seemingly intractable problem.

We present our psych theory to him as well, feeling almost smug about our detective work. Carlisle's face remains impassive as we explain ourselves. When he finally speaks, I'm shocked by his words.

"Edward, I'm a little disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry? I don't understand."

"Whatever is wrong with Ms. Mallory is mere conjecture at this point. The reasons _why_ she is motivated to do what she does are not nearly important as _how_ she is doing it. The Board of Nursing and the law will tease out those details. We simply need to do our best to catch her."

"But, Dad, I—what she's doing, she has to have some type of mental illness. You must see that, surely!"

"Son, this isn't a distracting injury, so don't make the mistake of getting pulled into secondary diagnoses. Focus on the issue at hand. Ask yourself—what does it change, if we discover that she has a personality disorder? Nothing. It doesn't move us forward. It doesn't prevent patients from being denied pain medications when she is their nurse. You know full well how much I despise hospital gossip, and this sounds a great deal like it is going down that path. You're a much better physician than that, and you know it. Getting personal is always a dangerous game."

One of the hallmarks of trauma medicine is known as a "distracting injury." It's used to help the physician focus on the most important issues a trauma victim faces as they triage the patient. If there is a life-threatening injury sustained in an accident—a closed skull fracture, for instance—the physician must focus on that injury before worrying about other, less critical or "distracting" injuries, like a broken leg. The reasoning behind this is that if the trauma is bad enough that the patient could die from it, splinting a broken leg isn't going to make a bit of difference in the patient's outcome.

When Carlisle mentions distracting injuries, he is reminding us that we need to focus on the important stuff; Lauren Mallory's psychiatric diagnosis is merely a distraction. The only thing that makes a difference is catching her in the act of stealing narcs. The logical, scientific part of my brain totally understands and agrees with that, but I hate the look that it brings to Edward's flawless face. He feels as though his father has chastised him, even though Carlisle is just trying to keep us both focused. Edward wants to distinguish himself from his father so badly, to prove that he is a capable, good physician in his own right, and any hint of a critique hits him hard.

Edward physically recoils from his father's words. "I'm just trying to figure out how to catch her in the act—if we understand her behavior, how does that distract us?"

"Have you ever considered that she might not be responsible? What if there is an explanation for the missing medications? What if it is a misunderstanding? What if Jessica is the one at fault, and she's trying to frame Lauren? If you charge forward, waving diagnoses in the air, and she isn't to blame? Well, it doesn't look good, that's for certain. The last thing we need is a slander case on our hands."

I watch Edward swallow hard, visibly upset by Carlisle's reproach, and it breaks my heart. I want to make this better, for both of them. I need to fix this. I wrap my hands in his, and snuggle closely, so he knows that I'm on his side.

"You know what, Edward? Carlisle is right. We are kind of wrapped up in playing detective here, and that isn't our job. What we know is medicine. If we look at the facts, the analysis tells us that she is responsible, and we need to try to come up with irrefutable evidence in order to catch her. Her motivations aren't really important. It makes for an interesting discussion, but we don't want to be the ones wallowing in the mire at the end of the day. She may well have BPD, but in the end, unless we catch her, that information is irrelevant. Let's leave that evaluation to our colleagues in psych."

I can see that he is still disappointed in himself. I understand how he feels, because he really did do a good job at trying to peg what makes Lauren tick, but Carlisle is right, too. I'm determined to do everything within my fucking power to make sure she gets caught as soon as possible.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who wants to make Edward feel better; Carlisle's plea breaks into my thoughts.

"Edward, I can't stand to see that look on your face—please understand that you didn't do anything wrong, I just want to make sure that you're on track. You're an excellent doctor; you simply need to remain focused. I'm not trying to be critical, I'm merely trying to teach you how these sorts of situations work. I hope you can see that, son."

"I know, Dad. You're right. It still hurts that I didn't do things the way you would have done them."

"How do you know I've never done the same thing? I'm not just a physician and a medical director—I'm also your father. My most important job is helping you learn and grow. If I failed to teach you a lesson in this, I certainly wouldn't have been doing my job. Do you understand?"

Carlisle reaches over and hugs Edward, but it is no mere manhug. It is a genuine father-who-loves-his-son hug, and it makes me tear up. The Cullens may be an amazing collection of individuals, but they are also the strongest family I've ever known. Once again, I am reminded of how lucky I am to be part of their world.

Carlisle gives me a light kiss on the top of my head, then turns toward Edward.

"I'm going to go check in on your mother," he smiles, then squeezes my hand. "You'll let us know when dinner is ready?"

I return his squeeze. "Of course."

Carlisle has barely turned around before Edward on top of me once again, but I know that this time, the reasons behind it are entirely different than usual.

**~xXx~**

Esme looks markedly better when she arrives at the dinner table; I'm glad that she decided to get some sleep. She walks up and gives me a warm, strong hug, and I instantly feel at ease. It dawns on me that I love her independently from Edward—I would want to know her and befriend her, even if Edward wasn't my boyfriend. In that moment, I realize that I'm not only in love with Edward, but also falling in love with his family.

My heart clenches for a moment, and I lock the thought away deep in my brain. I can't afford to dwell on that at the moment. I'm just going to live in the present and accept that I have them for right now, and that is good enough.

I turn back to the mushroom lasagna, placing a serving on everyone's plate. Edward has commandeered the salad bowl and is doing likewise. Carlisle finishes by pouring the wine, and we all sit down to enjoy the meal together.

"Bella, this is delicious," Esme compliments.

"Oh, this meal was actually a joint effort—Edward sautéed the mushrooms and onions while I prepared the sauce. He's rather handy in the kitchen. You trained him very well, Esme."

"Thank you. I always wanted for Edward to be self-sufficient when he grew up. I knew it would make him a great catch."

"As if I have nothing else to offer, Mom?" Edward replies with more than a touch of annoyance.

"Edward, my dear boy, I love you more than life itself, and you know it. It was important to me because I didn't want you to become a vain man who was willing to use his good looks and intelligence to get what he wants out of life."

"I will confess that making a meal side by side is a lot more fun than doing it all on your own," I add.

We take our time to savor the meal, peppering our bites with lively conversation. I can't believe either one of them can even move, much less engage in witty dialogue, seeing how they just got off of a plane from London less than 4 hours ago. By the time dessert arrives, along with a bottle of champagne, none of us are feeling any pain whatsoever, thanks to the good food and wine we've consumed.

I carefully place a slice of warm pie on four plates, and Edward adds a scoop of ice cream.

"Bellar, it's amazing that such a talented, intelligent woman is also capable of creating a pie that is nothing less than divine. It's almost scandalous, this pie is so delicious."

Edward looks me in the eye with a devious grin on his face. "Bella, your pie is the best thing I've ever tasted in my life. I hope I continue to partake of your pie for many years to come."

It does not escape my notice that Carlisle and Esme exchange a _look_, and I'm suddenly aware that they caught every last little innuendo that Edward just tossed in my direction. I take a moment to kick Edward under the table in retribution. He merely continues to grin at me, and I'm not amused. At. All.

For reasons that remain unclear to me at present, Esme launches into story telling time. Perhaps it is due to the combination of jet lag, red wine, and champagne. Whatever it is, once she begins, she is most determined. I get the full monty version of Esme Cullen's tenacity, and I decide that I like it. Very much. Especially because there is nothing I could have done on my own that would have yielded such an intimate knowledge of Edward Cullen.

"Bella, since I now consider you to be an honorary member of the Cullen clan, there are some things you need to know about my son."

Edward's eyes dart over to his mother's direction, and he gives her a look of warning. Esme pays no heed, much to my immense pleasure.

"When he was a little boy, Edward used to strip down to his skivvies the minute we walked through the front door. He refused to wear anything except his underwear around the house for years, even as an adolescent. He used to always tell me, 'being naked is my specialty!'"

I didn't think it was possible, but Edward blushes. "God, Mom, Bella doesn't need to know that stuff!"

"Hush, you! It's my recompense for all those years you refused to get dressed."

"Nice, Mom, but I believe that's enough for one evening. Great story, by the way. You are an excellent storyteller when it comes to _fiction_."

I have to giggle at the look on Edward's face; he is supremely embarrassed.

"Oh no you don't! I always told you I'd save the very best story for your wedding, but tonight is as good a night as any." Carlisle starts to laugh heartily, and my curiosity is piqued.

Edward simply groans in submission; he understands that his mother isn't going to be persuaded _not_ to share this information.

"Bella, my favorite Edward story is from a time when he was still in diapers. Once, when I went into his room to wake him from a nap, I was surprised to find him already awake, surrounded by bits of fluffy white material. He had a huge grin on his face."

Edward turns and buries his face into my shoulder, quietly mumbling, "No, no, no, no…"

I look at Esme, puzzled. "Bits of white fluff? Like feathers?"

"Right, I just couldn't figure out what the white stuff around him could be. When I reached down to pick him up, I glanced down his body. It's only then that I noticed Edward had dug a hole into his diaper to get at his bits."

I try very, very hard to stifle my giggles, but I'm not very successful. "Wait, you mean his junk was just hanging out?"

"Yes, it was. It was at that moment I realized just how tenacious my son was."

Edward sits up, and he is still blushing beet red. It's so nice to have someone else blush for once.

"Just remember, mother dear, that my tenacity is genetic. It takes one to know one."

My hand is over my mouth, but it is having no effect whatsoever on restraining my laughter. I feel it building in my stomach, threatening to overtake me. It's one of those occasions where you know—you just _know_—you're going to dissolve into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I really don't want to have a round of belly laughs at Edward's expense, but it is way too late for that. I decide that I just need to let it go, and I unleash this furious laugh. My eyes start to water, and I clench at my sides. I glance at Edward, and he is _so_ not amused.

Before I know it, Esme starts to join me, setting forth the most delightful set of giggles I have ever heard. The knowledge that Esme is now giggling only reinforces my silliness, so I am laughing even harder. It isn't long before Carlisle catches the fever, and the dining room table has transformed into a cacophony of uncontrolled noise. Edward's arms are crossed, and he's trying very hard to remain neutral, but I can see a grin just waiting to climb onto his face. I lean over and hug him tightly, trying to show him that even though I'm laughing at his expense, I mean him no harm. He kisses my forehead and suddenly gives up his seemingly stern demeanor. He openly laughs along with us.

I can hardly speak, I'm still so full of the sillies, but I manage to squeak out, "So that explains why you like to go commando, Cullen." We all start laughing even harder at that.

I take the image of us, this laughing symphony, in. The three of them, each one so beautiful and unique, seem like they were always intended to be together as a family. There is so much shared respect and admiration, and they are clearly deeply in love with each other. Almost everyone I know hates their parents, but Edward loves his parents as much as Carlisle and Esme love him. There's nothing awkward among them. It's really rather remarkable, and I'm honored to be a small part of it.

**~xXx~**

After Carlisle and Esme leave us for the night, I whisper into Edward's ear. "I have something waiting for you downstairs."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Oh? That is a devious tone you just took there."

"Yes, it is. And you're going to find out why."

To say that my tease makes Edward move more quickly would be a gross understatement. He ends up half carrying me down to his room, slamming the door behind him when we arrive. He wastes no time getting to the point.

"For the love of all that's holy, _please_ tell me the something waiting for me here involves you and no clothes," he pleads in a husky voice.

I smile. It's so easy to find Cullen's on switch; it's like taking candy from a baby. I giggle at that image, because that's _exactly_ what I'm about to do.

"No, Swan, no giggles. Just tell me what to expect. I'm dying, here," he explains, moving my palm to his very aroused crotch. I whimper.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"That information isn't helpful to me right now. You have the obvious evidence that I need you, right in the palm of your hand!"

"No, goofus, I mean I need to _change_ in the bathroom."

He backs away from me so he can look me in the eye.

"Change implies clothing. I believe I said that I want you naked. Now. How is my point not getting across to you?"

I give his cock a generous squeeze. "Trust me. This involves minimal clothing, and you will enjoy it very much."

He turns me around and marches me into the bathroom. "This better take less than 20 seconds. I'm a desperate man."

"I need my suitcase."

His eyes widen. Without saying a word, he darts to retrieve it and brings it to me. He stands there, looking at me as if he is in pain. I attempt to close the door, but he sticks his foot in the way.

"What?"

"Uh-uh. Can't lose eye contact with you at the moment."

"It's not going to take long. You'll be fine."

"No, I won't. I told you that I need you. I'm pretty sure you know what that means."

I give him my best exasperated look and roll my eyes. "We can stand here and argue, or you can shut the door and we can get down to business."

He lets out a sound that I can only describe as a dying goose, but he moves his foot out of the way. I had no idea he could be so single minded. I shake my head at him and giggle in amusement.

"Laughing does not make you get undressed more quickly. Did I mention that I'm dying? You need to _hurry_," he says with an edge of impatience.

"When I have to stop to talk to you, it slows me down, you know," I explain. He makes the dying goose sound again, and I attempt to stifle my laughter.

I pull the package from the zippered pocket of my suitcase. Unfortunately, it is encased in crinkly plastic wrap, so I can't be stealthy as I unwrap it. Naturally, Edward has his ear on the door and hears everything.

"What is that sound? Are you unwrapping something? Jesus in heaven, you are, aren't you? What can you possibly be doing in there that involves packaged materials?"

"Remember what I said about the talking thing, Edward? It slows me down."

The dying goose noise is now a growl. "Hurry the fuck up. _I__am__dying_. You're going to need to check my troponin levels once you get out of there."

I roll my eyes and continue unwrapping my surprise. Now that it is out of the package, I look at it with confusion.

_How the hell does this thing work?_

I've never worn a candy thong before, so I am a bit perplexed by it all. It is essentially a small elastic string with candy beads on it, just like the candy necklaces Charlie used to buy for me when I was a little girl. I smile, wondering what he would think of the innocent candy necklace being perverted in such a way. Literally. I'm also very glad that I recently waxed, because this would be rather uncomfortable if my pubes got tangled up in it.

I notice that Edward isn't making noises anymore, which concerns me. I slip the thong on, and open the door, only to run right into a naked Edward on my way out. Instinctively, he reaches his arms around me, and we break each other's fall.

"Wha—"

"Oh thank god, you're naked," is the last thing he says before he attacks my lips, and starts moving us toward his bed.

I keep trying to get a word in edgewise, but he won't let go of my lips. I've never seen him so desperate, and I'm not exactly sure what is driving his present frenzy.

Once we arrive at the bed, we topple onto it, with Edward conveniently on top of me. He rubs his incredibly hard cock over the thong, and our kiss is instantly over. He pulls away, confused. As he looks down at my crotch, his eyes widen. His eyes dart up to meet mine, and the beaming smile on his face makes the entire endeavor completely worth it.

"Isabella Swan, you are a perverted, inspired genius, and I fucking love you."

_B-i-n-g-o._

He pecks my upper lips, then instantly heads for my lower ones. He slides his palms under the sides of the thong, stretching them out, trying to decide where to start. He shakes his head, as if arguing with himself, and gently kisses my hip before snaking his tongue out to move the string into his mouth. I'm rewarded with the most incredible feeling—Edward's tongue and lips move over my skin as they battle to eat the candy, without the benefit of being aided by his hands. He's making this a completely oral endeavor, and I'm totally okay with that. I never know what kind of pleasure to expect, whether it will be lips, or the tip of his tongue, or both. It alternately tickles and arouses, and it's perfect. I am inclined to agree with Edward; I _am_ a perverted, inspired genius.

The perverted genius part only goes so far, however, because I really want him to focus on an area that is becoming very wet on its own, without direct help from Edward. Well, wet without any help from his lips, tongue, or hands. He's definitely the ultimate cause of the wetness, to be sure. As if he's reading my mind, Edward moves his hand over to my lips, pushing the candy aside. My hips buck in response, and I feel his grin on the surface of my skin.

I'm constantly amazed at how much I want Edward, all the time. It's as if, with him, I am unable to be sated. I get done having him, and I instantly want him again. I've always had a healthy sexual appetite, but this man unleashes a fury in me just by being in my presence. It is impossible for me to resist him. The minute his fingers leave the surface of my skin, I mourn their loss. This could become a problem, but I stuff that thought away in the back of my mind, along with others I bury deeply. I don't want to revisit this one. Ever.

While my mind was wandering, Edward has wandered, and I look down to see that he's now focusing on the part of the thong that is directly over my pussy.

_Fucking finally!_

"You know, I should be upset with you right now," he smiles up at me, so I know he is in a playful mood.

"What do you mean? I thought you'd consider this a treat."

"Believe me, it's a treat; it's just that you're taking something that already tastes like nectar and covering it up with sugar. That's just wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to begin."

"I have a suggestion for where you can begin, and it starts with a 'c' and ends with a 't'."

"I've never heard you use the word cunt before," he grins.

I snort in reply.

_Okay, I kind of asked for that one._

"Let me rephrase. It starts with a 'c' and ends with an 's', and it loves your mouth very, very much."

"I'm officially done with this candy thong. I just want you, Bella. Unadulterated."

He suddenly bites and tugs on the string, and the candies fly in every direction. He sweeps them all aside with one pass of his arm. He moves to my pussy so fast I can hardly process the chain of events that just passed; all I know is that he has my clit between his lips, and I'm in heaven. He feels so good, and I want him there forever.

I'm not sure what it is, exactly, that makes Cullenlingus so superior to plain old oral sex, but I thank every single woman who came before me, _literally_, for allowing Edward to perfect his technique. As much as people don't ever want to think about exes, in this case, I'm eternally grateful that he is a man of skill and experience. The things he is able to do to my pussy are beyond exquisite. I have no words in my vocabulary that could possibly do his skills justice. Instead, I just lay back and let him work his magic, appreciating every moment.

His fingers find their way to my G-spot, and I'm suddenly transported to that wonderful place Edward allows me to visit as frequently as possible. My version of heaven is Edward, between my legs, getting me off, and the bliss of floating back to him afterwards. Lying there, exhausted, in his arms. Then, I return the favor, and we both float up and down, back and forth, together, in an unending cycle of orgasms. Somehow, I've been allowed to start experiencing my heaven, right here, right now, and I cannot thank the universe enough for allowing me this sublime pleasure.

Edward's mouth finds mine, and we share a slow, deep kiss while he gently slips inside of me. I taste myself, mingled with his own delicious flavor, and it's somehow improved when our flavors combine. As he slowly strokes in and out, he opens his eyes, and we simply look at one another, both of us perfectly in this moment together.

It occurs to me, watching his face move and change in tune with the pleasure we're giving each other, that this is what love is all about. Aside from how it makes you feel, it's this extreme, unbroken connection to another soul that people have tried to capture in words for centuries. All the words in the world, however, cannot describe the feeling that is alive in every single nerve cell of my body right now. I've never before experienced an emotion so deep that it is becomes part of my identity. The effect Edward has on me is so profound I almost think my DNA might have changed. It dawns on me that _this_ is what they mean when they talk about soul mates.

_I__get__to__have__a__soul__mate.__Dr.__Edward__Anthony__Cullen__is_my_soul__mate._

I come the moment that thought enters my mind, and I am suddenly filled with such an intense wave of pleasure and love, I can hardly stand it. I hear myself screaming, and feel tears welling up in my eyes, I'm so overwhelmed by everything going through my head.

Edward looks incredibly concerned, and I need to erase that look from his face—I never, _never_ want to be the cause of that look on his face, ever again.

"What, Bella?" he whispers.

"I just realized that you're my soul mate. I'm literally in heaven right now."

I feel Edward pulse deeply inside of me, and he briefly closes his eyes; he is the very picture of ecstasy.

_I did that. I gave him that look. Amazing._

When his eyes open, his movement stops, but he stays inside of me. Our hearts are pounding so hard against each other I can feel them vibrate on my ribcage.

He moves his hands to either side of my face, holding me gently in his gaze. "I always knew you were my soul mate, Bella. It just took you a little bit longer to figure that out," he says quietly. I hug him as hard as I am able, and I still cannot get close enough.

I feel him slip out from me, and I instantly feel painfully empty. Being an anally retentive individual, I always run off to clean up post coitus, but I have no desire to venture anywhere other than where I am right now. I think Edward must sense it, too, and moves us to our sides. We never once break eye contact; we simply continue to stay connected as closely as possible. He moves to quickly cover us with the duvet, and then we wrap ourselves around each other. As I begin to drift towards sleep, I hear him whisper, "I'm going to love you for the rest of my life, Bella Swan. You cannot separate souls once they've been mated." I'm too sleepy to respond, even though I really want to. I merely snuggle into him more fiercely, and happily slip into unconsciousness thinking of nothing but Edward and love.

**~xXx~**

Knowing that we're heading back to work later today, Edward and I spend some quality time with each other. On top of each other. Inside of each other. Next to each other. Eventually, however, Darcy and Elizabeth make their presence known, because it is time for walkies. Edward groans his displeasure at the dogs.

"Why is it that when I'm here, the only person who can possibly run them is me?"

"Well, I can't answer that, because I feel the same way whenever I'm in your presence," I laugh.

He waggles his eyebrows at me. "Good, that means my nefarious plans have been entirely successful. Exxxxcellent." He places his palms together, fingers splayed, and does his best Mr. Burns impression.

Edward rolls over on top of me and starts sucking on my neck. His erect cock wants to join in the fun, too.

"Cullen, what is the deal? You're hornier than a twelve year old boy who just googled the word 'tit' for the first time and is greedily looking at the results."

"Well, my cock seems to think that you are the embodiment of the word 'tit,' and it also believes that it is twelve years old."

He tries to move off of me, and I clench my arms around him, making escape impossible. He gives me a look.

"Methinks you doth protest too much, Swan."

"I didn't say I don't want your horny cock. I merely commented on its virility."

"Well, I hate to deprive you, but the dogs do need to be run. Join me?"

As if I would ever say no.

**~xXx~**

We talk over strategy for tonight's shift while Edward drives us to the hospital. I called in this morning to see what the cases were like, and found out that they have Lauren assigned to the prisma patient.

_Perfect._

Prisma is a method of dialysis, except that it is continuous, rather than intermittent. We use it most frequently on bone marrow transplant or oncology patients, when the side effects of their chemo and/or medication regimen shut down their kidneys either temporarily or permanently. Without adequately functioning kidneys, these kids tend to swell up because they are unable to get rid of excess fluid and waste. It is a much easier to perform with adults, because they understand what you're doing and can hold still; they're often too ill to move much, anyhow. In children, however, especially the youngest ones, keeping them still is paramount. Sudden movement can cause the machinery to malfunction, cause their IVs to clot off, and can even pull out the IV catheter. Because of this, we typically sedate and, if needed, paralyze the patient to minimize disruptions in the prisma process.

Depending on how many interventions are required for both the patient and the prisma machine, these patients are often staffed 2:1. That means one nurse takes care of the patient, and one nurse takes care of the prisma process. These two nurses work closely in tandem, focusing on the "Is and Os"—ins and outs. ICU nurses are extremely picky about managing a patient's fluid status, especially in a child. They can get dehydrated or have fluid overload incredibly fast, so we always aim for what we call _net__zero_, meaning everything you take on in fluid, you take off in dialysis. We calculate the volume of fluids going into the prisma patient, such as IV drips, IV medications, tube feedings, and the like, and chart this hourly. Then we measure everything that comes out of the patient, including Jasper's forte, poopy diapers. We calculate the difference, then program that into the prisma machine every hour, aiming for that lofty goal of net zero. Sometimes, however, a patient is too unstable to pull off enough fluid, and their blood pressure will start to _tank,_ or get too low. It's a delicate, tenuous process, which is why it often takes one nurse focusing on nothing else besides prisma.

I have requested to be assigned to Lauren's patient in order to properly launch Project Nab Lauren Mallory's Ass. It will make things far easier for me to observe her behavior when working right next to her. Patients who on are prisma or hemodialysis tend to run into issues with their medications, because both types of treatments are designed to cleanse the blood of waste products. Dialysis equipment isn't smart enough to recognize that some of this waste is actually important medication. Because of this phenomenon, these patients often require higher doses of sedative and analgesic medications than might other patients their size. I suspect that Lauren might try to use this knowledge to chart higher doses of meds than she is actually giving to the patient. What's especially genius is that I also know this, and I plan to watch her very closely as a result.

Of course, the problem with working alongside Lauren Mallory is that I have to work alongside Lauren Mallory. Under the best of circumstances, it is an incredibly unpleasant endeavor. Admittedly, these are not the best of circumstances, which means I'd rather have Laurence Olivier go all _Marathon__Man_ on me, drilling holes through my front teeth sans novocaine, than work with Lauren for more than 30 seconds at a time. The only bright spot is that her shift is over at 2300, so I only have to endure her for four hours. Thank god for small miracles.

_Lauren, my dear, there's a new sheriff in town._

**END NOTE: Images of Bella's candy thong are located on my livejournal. You can blame ememmyem for the inspiration.**

"**Check my troponin levels" is a reference to one of the key indicators of a heart attack—increased troponin levels (Yes, Edward is prone to exaggeration when he _needs_Bella).**

**_Cullenlingus_ belongs to Ninapolitan, but she is kind enough to loan it to me on an as-needed basis, because she is win like that.**

**The cherry pie idea is all 's doing. I claim no responsibility whatsoever. **


	24. Catch Me If You Can

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I'm not really sure where December went, but I swear it was only about 15 minutes long. I apologize for how long it has taken to post a new chapter. Thank you to everyone for your patience! **

**Things I own: New Moon "sparkle" Edward (complete with torn shirt) and Eclipse Edward action figures. I now have a sum total of FOUR Edward action figures, just the way I like it. They are presently ogling my Jane Austen action figure, and she feels slightly outnumbered, but she knows the pen is mightier than the sword. **

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. **

**Thanks to Ladyeire72, who on top of pre-reading duties, sends me e-cards with CRIMPLE ROB and other ROBPR0N on them. *happy sigh***

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who spit shines everything you see here. Yes, I promise to re-resolve to listen to you in 2011.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: CATCH ME IF YOU CAN**

"I'd much prefer to keep doing the patient care, Bella. I've already been doing it for 8 hours, you know."

In the ICU, nurses work either 8 hour or 12 hour shifts. When you work 12 hours, there are times you have to switch assignments during your shift. The charge nurses try to minimize this phenomenon, but there are times when it is unavoidable.

_So sorry, Lauren, you kind of gave up the right to an opinion when you deprived sick kids of their pain meds._

"Yeah, I know it sucks to switch, but that's how the assignment was made. I'm going to be orienting a new employee at 2300, so they gave me the patient care part."

"Oh my god, whatever! Let's just get this over with. _Fuck!_"

She thinks she's swearing under her breath, but I'm certain you could hear her all the way across the room. This is a perfect example of the unique joy of working with Lauren Mallory, RN.

"So, go ahead and give me report."

She glares at me. I don't know why she thinks this is going to intimidate me; I've had to deal with neurosurgeons who have egos the size of Texas, and she thinks she scares me? Not even close.

"Well, the patient has been very unstable. I've had to essentially push narcs, she's moving way too much. I was afraid she was going to lose her femoral line."

Femoral IV lines are a real challenge, because the patient only has to bend at the hip and the line can be jeopardized. They kink off, clot easily, and are hideously prone to infection, especially when a patient is diapered. Femoral lines are the bane of Jasper Whitlock's existence. He always whines when a kid comes back from the OR with a fem line.

"Huh. You didn't ask the docs for a paralytic?"

She gives me a look that tells me I'm testing the limits of her patience. "No, the patient's issue is clearly pain-related."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Her pupils were 4."

She means 4 mm. It's bigger than we'd like them to be if a patient is adequately sedated.

While she is giving me report, I'm doing my typical multi-tasking. I go through all my safety checks, assess IV lines, throw away wrappers she has left sitting out. I always prefer to start with a clean workstation. For me, clear workspace equals clear mind.

As I grab a wrapper, I notice some vials of morphine sitting out on the bedside cart. I pick one up, and see that the entire lid has been removed. This is a _highly_ unusual practice. Vials of IV meds are manufactured with a rubber stopper in the top of the bottle, and a sterile seal of a plastic or metal top sitting over it. When we draw up meds, we pop the plastic top off, and then scrub the rubber with an alcohol wipe. Once it's been wiped down, we stick a syringe directly into the vial and draw up the appropriate amount of medication. According to hospital protocol, any remaining amount that is unused has to be drawn up in the presence of another nurse and wasted in front of them. Typically, it is squirted down the sink and the vial is tossed into a sharps container.

When I look at this vial, however, the rubber stopper is no longer there. That's unusual, because it not only makes the previously sterile container contaminated, but it also makes it far easier to spill or accidentally waste medicine. It's also the perfect way to draw up the medication and put something else into the vial—like normal saline.

I'm completely surprised to see the vial wide open like that. In all the time I've worked in the PICU, I've only seen that happen a handful of times, and only in conjunction with a vial that has some kind of flaw that doesn't allow it to be opened normally.

Being a very crafty individual, Lauren sees me pause a beat too long as I look at the vial. That's all it takes.

She grabs the bottle, along with a few others, and swiftly mumbles some excuse about forgetting to waste the meds earlier.

"But Lauren," I stammer, "You totally opened the med up to contamination. That doesn't make any sense."

"Um, well, the patient was moving so much, I needed it emergently. When it wouldn't open, I had to use a pair of clamps to get the cap off."

"You could have asked your prisma partner to get a new one."

She narrows her eyes and looks at me for a second. "Well, if I had more time to think about it, I suppose I could have, but as I said, it was an emergency. Hindsight is always 20/20. Anyway, it's not important. I'll make sure it gets wasted."

"Yeah, why don't we do that right now? I'll give you a hand. We can ask someone else to watch the patient for us."

"Oh, let's just finish report. I'll take care of it later."

_Riiiight. _

I make a mental note that there were several vials open like this. The problem I'm faced with is that I have no hard proof that she did anything out of the ordinary with the meds. Like fiber evidence at a crime scene, it is suspicious, but there are ways it could be explained away. It's just my word against hers, which isn't helping us build a serious case.

Then it hits me.

_PICUcam._

We have several rooms wired with video cameras. We use them for a variety of purposes, including sleep studies, but their main role is for Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy or other types of child abuse cases. We use the cameras to capture parental behavior when a nurse is not present in the room. While _I_ might not be able to catch Lauren in action, the _cams_ certainly can. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner.

I file that detail away for a moment and get back to the situation at hand. "So, how much sedation _have_ you given?"

Lauren gives me a run down of the patient's needs, and I notice that the patient is calm and quiet; I didn't expect that. It's entirely possible that she did give her a real dose of narcs, after all. I excuse myself to go get some more vials of morphine. The minute I'm out of Lauren's sight, I text Edward to meet me in the med room.

While I'm waiting, I grab some morphine and versed, so I have enough sedation to kill a horse. The sad fact is that I'm fairly certain I'll go through most of this in one shift; some days, I'm little more than a legal drug pusher.

Edward walks in with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Swan, your shift just started and already you need my cock?"

I roll my eyes. "Once again with the world revolving around your penis business."

"We've been over and over this. _Your_ world _does,_" he says seductively, putting his hands on my hips.

The subject of Edward's penis gets me momentarily sidetracked. He is correct—my world _does_ revolve around it, but I'm certainly not going to tell him that. I reach down to his groin, and give him a squeeze.

_Commando. Jesusfuckingchrist, no._

"Oh come on! That is _so_ unfair!" I spurt out.

"Who ever told you that life is fair?"

A healthy dose of crimples blooms on his face, and between his cock and his crimples, I'm doomed. I quickly assess whether or not the coast is clear, and finding that it is, I pull him in for a kiss. I have to take what I can get in this limited amount of time.

The second I hear the door handle rattle, I pull away from Edward, and pretend that I'm showing him something from my pocket. Yes, I admit it is a totally lame and ineffectual gesture, but I'll be damned if I'm going to broadcast to the entire PICU how badly I need Edward Cullen. It is only then that I remember why I sent him a text in the first place.

"Oh, Cullen, I forgot—I need to show you something. Can you stop by room 2 with me?"

When Edward turns around, I see that the person who entered was just Alice. Saved by the fucking bell, thank god.

"Bella, you and Cullen have been bonking like bunnies for the past 72 hours, and you still haven't had enough?" She giggles.

I feel my cheeks burn and Edward merely laughs at the hilarity. I swat his ass and we walk the short distance to room 2.

"You need me so badly that we're going to have trysts in vacant patient rooms?"

"Very funny. Once again, please direct your mind away from your cock for 30 seconds."

"All right. What is it?" He crosses his arms, becoming slightly more serious.

"I wasn't with Lauren for more than 5 minutes when I caught her in some suspect behavior, but I realized that proving it comes down to her word over mine."

"Bella, you know everyone will believe you."

"That doesn't matter, Edward. We need hard evidence, not just an eyewitness account. Her actions could be explained away easily enough. What we really need is to catch her on tape."

Edward furrows his brow at me for a minute, then a smile slowly spreads across his face.

"The Munchausen cam?"

"_Exactly_."

He leans in and kisses my forehead. "Just one of the many reasons I adore you—such a clevah gerl," he says, imitating the game warden from _Jurassic Park._

"I need to get back to my patient, but I thought you might want to discuss it with your dad."

"Lovely idea, Nurse Swan. I will catch up with you later."

**~xXx~**

I don't see Edward again for hours, but I have my hands full watching Lauren Mallory. It's bad enough that I have to watch for her to make a slip regarding medications. It's another thing all together to work side by side with her to deliver patient care. She's not a careful nurse, and I feel like I'm constantly cleaning up after a tornado hit. I don't trust her clinical judgment, and she's always behind in her charting. When she's the only nurse in the room with a patient, I couldn't care less how she organizes her work. When I have to make my decisions based upon data she has yet to enter? Then I mind very much. I keep reminding myself that I'm only with her for four hours. I can survive four hours. I think_._

I keep assessing the patient's activity level, and she's been adequately sedated for me. However, I still sense that Lauren was embellishing the truth in order to cover up for stealing narcs. I review her charting, to see if her documentation matches her verbal descriptions, but she's so behind that it's of little use. I know it is important to build a case against her, but I would much prefer to focus on my own work. It makes me feel more than a little guilty to be so selfish.

Finally, the shift comes to a close, and I bid adieu to Lauren and hello to Kitty. She's one of my favorite colleagues, and her arrival is like a breath of fresh air. She works 8-hour night shifts, and she is one of the funniest people I know. I stealthily listen in on Lauren giving report to Kitty; not surprisingly, it is very brief and lacks some important details about the patient's status. Naturally, I'll make sure Kitty gets the right details, but it just burns me that Lauren gets away with shit like this. It's so sloppy, and just leaves it to her colleagues to pick up after her mess.

Aside from being a top-notch nurse, Kitty also happens to be a lesbian. I notice that Lauren is suddenly batting her eyes and acting all coy in front of her.

_What the hell?_

If I'm not mistaken, Lauren is trying to lure Kitty to her side—_The Dark Side_. Kitty, however, doesn't take the bait. She doesn't fuck around, and she's in a committed relationship. I roll my eyes internally at Lauren's antics.

Once Lauren leaves, Kitty and I confer about how to coordinate our Ins and Outs. It is critical to keep a close eye on our patient's hydration status by tracking Is and Os when they are on prisma. We agree that I will enter my own data and she will use it for her prisma calculations.

"I have 110 mils for your midnight O," I explain to her.

Kitty spits out the coffee she was attempting to swallow. I worry that perhaps it was too hot.

"Oh shit, Kitty, are you okay?"

She instantly starts cackling. I'm completely confused by her reaction.

"What did you just say to me?" She says, in between guffaws.

"I just told you what I had for your midnight Os."

"Right." More laughter.

Oh. _Oh._ Midnight Os. As in "O" face.

_Fuck, Bella, you're such an idiot._

I clear my throat. "Well, yeah, I had to make it worth your while to come into work tonight."

"Nice recovery, Bella. For the record, you can do my midnight O any day." She continues to laugh as she programs the prisma circuit for the next hour.

**~xXx~**

Kitty leaves for her dinner break, which is generally an hour on the overnight shift, so I'm alone with our patient. It's not a big deal to cover for her, because all her numbers were programmed into the prisma machine right before she left. My only responsibility is to troubleshoot any alarms that sound while she's gone and keep an eye on the patient's blood pressure.

As I glance up at the monitor, I notice that the signals from her leads are weak, and her O2 sat probe keeps alarming. That is a constant issue in little ones, because they tend to move a lot, which loosens the leads. They also sweat a lot, and don't get regular baths, which doesn't help matters at all. The gel backing only lasts so long; I decide it is a good time to switch out her leads. We're supposed to switch the leads once every 24 hours, because it gives the skin a chance to rest and prevents sores from accumulating.

O2 sat probes are another bane of a nurse's existence. They monitor a very important vital sign—how oxygenated a patient's blood is—so they are a necessary evil. In little ones, we usually adhere them to a fingertip or toe. On a baby, we can use the palm or the sole of the foot. The problem is that every time the patient moves a hand or foot, the oxygen saturation alarm goes off. It's almost like "The Boy Who Cried Wolf," because you hear the monitors go off so frequently, you tend to zone out the noise. There are other alarms that are more critical. Unless, of course, the oxygen saturation levels are correct.

I learned this the hard way. When I was still a new nurse, I had a newborn patient with a serious heart defect that was awaiting surgery. We had to continuously infuse pGE, which is a prostaglandin. This enables the baby's Patent Ductus Arteriosis (PDA) to remain open, which is a small vessel between the aorta and the pulmonary artery. It is important to a baby's heart function in utero, but isn't needed any longer once they are born. It usually closes during their first day of life. For babies with a specific type heart defect, if the PDA closes, they will die. My patient's sat probe kept alarming, but he was wiggling all over the place, so I assumed he was fine. It wasn't until I went over to investigate further that I found out that the value on the alarm was correct, and that's when I became incredibly alarmed. I had to press the code button because the child was turning blue. He was instantly whisked away for an emergency surgery. Everything turned out just fine, but it made me realize how important alarms are. To this day, I'm hypervigilant about O2 sat probes. My colleagues tease me about it, but I've never made that mistake again. If I had paid attention to the alarm from the first time it sounded, there might have been other interventions that could have been undertaken less emergently.

I usually don't monkey around with my patient in the middle of the night, because I like to attempt to keep up a schedule for them, even though they are hospitalized. There are times, however, when a patient chooses not to cooperate with me, and this is one of those times.

I grab a new set of leads and an O2 sat probe. I silence the monitor for three minutes, so I need to act fast before the alarms start again. I gently remove the existing leads, which can tug at a patient's gentle skin. Before I attach the new lead, I apply a special skin prep to prevent further irritation. I shift the lead position slightly, so that the old site gets a chance to breathe. One lead goes on top of each nipple, and a third goes near the bottom rib on the patient's left side, midline between the navel and the arm. I peel the old O2 sat probe off of my patient's finger, intending to put a new one on her other hand. I'm just getting ready to peel off the backing and expose its sticky surface when I feel someone breathe on my ear. Naturally, my response is to scream at the top of my lungs.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take you to notice I was here."

I whack him in the shoulder.

"That was _so_ not funny, Cullen! I was concentrating on my work!"

"You do have an incredible ability to focus; I actually stood here the entire time you were replacing the leads. I'm sincerely amazed that you blocked everything else out."

"Well, I'm not used to people sneaking up on me and watching what I'm doing!"

"I stopped by to inform you that I was more than a little upset when I heard you doling out midnight Os to any and everyone in the PICU. I also hear that you're switching teams on me?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You told Kitty you were going to give her a midnight O. I'm very hurt, Bella. Wounded to my soul."

I start giggling. "Yeah, well, you weren't around, so I had to take care of myself, you know? It serves you right for eavesdropping, I must say."

"I can't believe—" He looks around the room to ensure that the coast is clear. "I can't believe how fucking sexy your ass is in those scrubs." He's still standing somewhat behind me, and I feel his hands sneak on to my cheeks. Without even thinking, my body reacts to his touch, arching back into his body.

_Shit. _"Cullen, DO NOT get me wound up right now. I still have six hours left on my shift."

"Can't help it. It's not my fault you waggle that hot ass in front of me all the time. In fact, that's the very first part of you that appealed to me, the first time I saw you."

"My ass? You're full of it. I was minding my own business before you swept in and seduced me."

"I remember the moment perfectly. I was having the shittiest day on the planet, and I smelled you walk by me. The resident had just ripped me a new asshole, and there you were, making my world better. I was instantly intrigued, because I had never smelled anything even remotely good in this hospital."

"Oh, that's my Happy."

"Well, I didn't know you were happy, I just smelled you and liked it."

"No, my perfume. Happy."

I feel his nose just below my ear, inhaling deeply. "Mmm, that's it, right there. Still as perfect as the first time I smelled it. Pure Bella Swan."

I feel him tug on my ponytail as he continues. "I smelled you first, but what I saw next is what killed me dead."

I feel his fingers on the back of my neck, rubbing gently up and down.

He whispers into my ear, "Every time I see it, I just want to put my lips on you. So irresistible."

I take a quick glance at the patient's monitor, and everything is fine. Then I check the clock. Kitty's not due back for another thirty minutes. I let myself relax slightly.

"I thought it was my ass that attracted you?"

His hands travel down my spine and land on my cheeks. "Mmhmmm. As amazing as the scent and neck were, this—" he squeezes my cheeks gently, "This is what really drove me to distraction. An upside down heart, looking perfectly luscious in a pair of scrub pants. Now, I happen to know it is impossible to look good in a pair of scrubs, so my curiosity was instantly piqued."

I giggle in response, because Edward Cullen is nothing if not ridiculous. He's absolutely right—no one looks good in a pair of scrubs, particularly a woman. I'm no exception. "I told you, I have to get mine tailored so that they fit. I have a lot of junk in the trunk, and a small waist. If I don't want to appear to be the size of a small garage, I have to get them fitted."

"Oh, trust me, I'm very appreciative of whatever it is you do. I'm just trying to emphasize exactly how much I enjoy your efforts."

He finishes with another squeeze, and I can't take it anymore.

My breath shakes as I blurt out my question. "What time are you going on break tonight?"

He's still standing behind me, and he whispers into my ear, "Whenever you are, of course."

He gives me a peck on the cheek and exits the room while I attempt to regain my composure. It doesn't work.

**~xXx~**

Once Kitty returns from her break, I take a minute to let her know what I did while she was gone, then I give her a brief report on what needs to happen while I'm out of the room. I'm trying valiantly to keep cool and calm, but failing miserably.

I'm constantly amazed at Edward Cullen's nefarious ways—he isn't even in the fucking room and I want him. I calculate in my head that it has been exactly ten hours and twelve minutes since we last had sex, and all I can think of is where we can go to hump one another silly and not get caught. I grin to myself when I think about the time we got caught in the call room. I really, really do not want to repeat that incident. It would kill me if our behavior ever got back to Carlisle. I recognize that we need to be more careful, hormonal impulses be damned.

Kitty is watching the whole thing transpire across my face, and now it is her turn to smirk.

"Cullen has totally done a number on you, hasn't he?"

Oh god, I feel the flush. I try to play innocent. "I don't know what you mean."

She shakes her head. "Oh Bella, you _know_ I'm not stupid. Come on, I can tell. I'm not going to say a word to anyone, because that isn't how I roll. But my dear, it is written all over your face in permanent ink. You're whipped."

I just have to love Kitty. She's no nonsense, intuitive, and smart as a whip.

I speak in a hushed tone. "Yeah, I really am. He's so beyond words."

"I know, I can see the Sharpie marks, remember?"

"I just feel like I'm 12, and I have a crazy fangirl crush. The way my heart rate accelerates whenever I think of him? It's insane! I've never felt like this before and it's so good. Just so, so good."

"Not gonna lie, he's pretty enough to make me want to redefine gender lines. He could totally give some of the girls I've slept with a run for their money."

I snort at that, then try to quash my laughter. I don't want to wake up the patient, after all.

"Thanks, Kitty. I'm glad I don't have to try to hide it from you. I really appreciate your discretion."

"No problem. I don't recommend the call room again, though. That one spread like wildfire."

"I know," I whisper and glance up at the clock. "I'll see you in an hour."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She exclaims.

I turn around to face her. "Oh, I'm determined to do _exactly_ what you wouldn't do," I giggle.

Once I'm out of the room, I send Edward a quick text, just to make sure he's available.

_**Where r u?**_

_**- Dictation room**_

_**Lock on door?**_

_**- Oh yes. Get ur ass over here. STAT.**_

I'm standing right outside the door when I get his text. I knock and hear a rustling noise on the other side. The door flies open so abruptly that I'm startled. Edward pokes his head out and looks around to make sure the coast is clear.

He grabs my arms and pulls me inside. I push him down into his chair, my hands instantly at the tie of his scrubs. He still has on his lab coat, the one that has _Dr. Edward A. Cullen, M.D._ embroidered on it in red script. It is so fucking sexy, I just want to do all kinds of bad things to him whenever he wears it. Since it's longer, it conveniently stays in place when I yank his pants down.

_One benefit of going commando is that it makes the sexing a hell of a lot easier._

"Edward," I manage to squeak out. "You were so naughty earlier, making me want you so badly."

He doesn't even speak, he just quirks one of his eyebrows at me.

I squeeze his cock and look into his eyes. "Bad boys do not get what they deserve."

He lets out a disappointed, whiney sound, and puts on his puppy dog eyes. He knows I can't resist it.

"I, however, am a very good girl, so I get exactly what I deserve, and that would be _you_."

He smiles.

I slip off my shoes, and place both of our phones on the desk right near us, in case we get called in the heat of passion. We may be horny as fuck, but we're still medical professionals, and the job _always_ comes first when we're on the clock.

I turn around so he sees my ass. I wiggle my hips as I scoot my scrub pants over my bum and down my legs, forcing him to emit a rough groan.

I look over my shoulder and ask, "Edward, do you want to fuck me?"

His answer is strained, but immediate. "Always."

_God, I need him._

In seconds, I'm on top of him, straddling him on the chair. My pussy is so close to his erection, but I keep it just far enough away so that there is no direct contact. I lean over and whisper in his ear, because he loves dirty talk, and he loves it when I play with his ears; it drives him to distraction. They're incredibly sensitive.

"Did you know you always make my pussy wet? I can never, ever go commando, because everyone would instantly know how much I want you."

"_Fuck._ Yes."

"Is the door locked, Edward?"

He takes his eyes off mine just long enough to check.

"Yes."

I grab his cock hard, placing it right where I need it to be. Without hesitation, I sink down onto him. I feel his hands move over my breasts, on my hips, wherever I happen to need them. We stare into one another's eyes, mesmerized, locked in this connection. While it fills our basic needs in this moment, this is so much more than having sex. It evokes feelings in me I cannot even describe, and it is sublime.

I'm so into this moment with him that I come hard and quickly without any additional stimulation. Just his cock in my pussy, the perfect pairing. He smiles in satisfaction—he loves it when he can get me to come so readily. I'm certainly not complaining.

I can tell he is close, because his grip on my hips instantly gets rougher, his breathing more ragged. He thrusts into me as forcefully, using my hips as leverage, and I feel his twitch. Looking into his beautiful face, I watch the bloom of contentment wash over him, as if all his stress and tension has just been erased. He continues to pulse, but he stops moving our bodies. I rest my forehead onto his and we breathe together. We don't have the luxury of time right now, so I sadly slide away from him. I grab a box of Kleenex and wipe myself off. Before I hand the Kleenex to him, I kneel between his legs.

"Let me do it."

Knowing his penis is still very sensitive, I carefully place his flagging erection in my mouth, avoiding direct contact with the head. I gently clean him, loving the taste of both of us at the same time.

When his scrubs are neatly back on his body, he pulls me in for a kiss.

He looks at me with a fresh intensity. "I love tasting us together. I never imagined I would fall so passionately in love with someone that I would want them all the time. I cannot be sated. I will not be sated. I love you with such ferocity that it sometimes scares me."

I lean in and give him a very long kiss. "I'm not going anywhere. I cannot go anywhere. This is a symbiotic relationship, Edward. No matter how scary your feelings are, they mirror my own exactly. We're both so deeply entrenched in this. There is no way out, and frankly if there were, I would throw away the key."

He grabs my cheeks then gives me a sweet kiss on my forehead. "You need to go save some babies, Swan."

I sigh, recognizing that he's right. "Yep. I'll try not to jump your bones again before we leave, but there are no guarantees, especially where your penis is involved."

"Like I said, your world revolves around it, huh?" he smirks.

"Laugh all you want, but I don't see you backing away willingly from my pussy, either."

"Don't even joke about that. I'd be devastated."

I lean in for one quick, chaste kiss, then tidy up my pony tail.

"Do I look like I've just been ravished by the hottest fellow in the PICU?"

"Absolutely."

"Please tell me I am not sporting triple F."

He chuckles. "No, you're safe. But not from me."

With my hand on the doorknob, I look over my shoulder. "I love you so fucking much."

"Ditto, baby. Ditto."

**~xXx~**

About 15 minutes before the end of the shift, Cullen peeks his head into my room.

"Jasper and Alice need a hand with a dressing change."

"Yeah, and?"

"They asked me to bring you down there."

_What the fuck_? Alice and Jasper can totally do their own dressing changes; they don't need my help. Even if they did, why ask the fellow to come get me? I trust both of them implicitly, however, and I know if they asked for me to be there, they must genuinely need me there.

In a matter of moments, there are five of us surrounding the Jasper's patient's bed. Edward looks all serious; I know he's been incredibly worried about this little guy's regression.

"Let's see it, Whitlock."

Alice is standing by the patient's bedside, assisting Jasper with a sterile dressing change. He peels back the old dressing, and gags a little bit, placing the dressing back where it was.

"Oh my holy hell, that is just heinous," Jasper grimaces.

"What is it, Jazz? Purulent?" Alice asks, worriedly.

"I have never seen anything like it in all my life," Jasper turns his head away, trying not to retch.

"Is it worse than last night?" she asks.

Jasper looks like he's going to pass out, and I'm completely at a loss. The only thing that ever turns his stomach is poop. It makes me wonder what the hell is going on with the patient's wound.

"Alice, would you please hold out your hand for me?"

"Sure," she reaches her gloved palm out, complying with his request.

Jasper takes the Kelly clamp and wiggles it around, like he's trying to remove a clump of necrotic tissue.

"Careful, Whitlock! You don't want to make the injury worse!" Edward states brusquely.

"Mary Alice Brandon, will you promise to continue doing dressing changes with me for the rest of your life?"

Alice looks at Jasper like he's stoned. "Jasper, what on earth—"

From underneath the dressing, he pulls out a sapphire and diamond ring with the Kelly clamp. "Marry me?"

"Oh my god! THAT'S what you were doing?"

"I had to make it realistic, baby!"

Alice promptly runs around the bed and hops into Jasper's waiting arms. "Of course! Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

We're all so stunned, and then so happy, that we break into laughter and quiet applause. I hug both of them, and Jasper spills how he was able to keep it such a closely guarded secret. It turns out Edward knew all along; he was serving as Jasper's straight man. They high five one another.

_Sneaky little fuckers_.

It takes a few moments for the myriad ways in which my life is about to change to dawn on me.

I feel like the walls closing in around me.

I recently fell in love with a beautiful, intelligent, perfect man.

We had designs to live together for a few weeks, but those plans were aborted.

Now, we still have designs to spend those weeks together, living at his condo.

My roommates/best friends are engaged.

_Where in the hell am I going to live?_

What the fuck just happened to me? I used to think my life was steady and calm; for the most part, I knew what to expect from the world. I lived by my own rules. I was accountable to no one but myself. I didn't need anyone.

I'm suddenly reminded of one of my favorite books, _Sense and Sensibility_, by Jane Austen. It features the two Dashwood sisters, Elinor, who is very sensible, and Marianne, who is all about engaging the senses. I realize that the moment I met Edward Cullen, I morphed from Elinor into Marianne. When someone like him insinuates himself into your life, a new alternate reality becomes the rule of law. Once upon a time, that would have alarmed me to a remarkable degree. Now? All I can do is take in a deep breath and happily sigh. If there is one thing I learned from the example of the Dashwoods, it is that being all sense, or all sensibility, is not a good choice to make. The title is _Sense AND Sensibility_, after all.

I look over at Edward, and he's positively beaming. He's so happy for Jasper and Alice, and I'm incredibly touched by that. I watch his eyes shift from Alice to Jasper, and back again.

_He loves that they're engaged. He's proud of them._

As if he senses my eyes on his body, he glances up, his face a vision of serenity. In just that quick glance, I feel a rush of warmth envelope my body. He walks to my side, taking my hand into his.

With a serious tone that belies his happy countenance, he asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks. It's a lot to process."

He squeezes my hand to reassure me. "We'll figure it out."

"I know. Let's finish up and get home, okay?"

He waggles his eyebrows at me and grins. "Says _she who must be obeyed_."

I swat his impertinent ass and am once again reminded that he is commando, so I give him a little goose.

"Damn straight on that one, Commando Boy."

TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_LOVE AND OTHER DRUGS_

Sometimes, in the midst of tragedy, trauma, and heartache, amazing things happen. When you work in an ICU, it can be a challenge to remember that the real world isn't as one-sided as it seems. I'm so used to seeing incredibly ill children that I'm often taken aback when I see one who is healthy.

I'm fascinated with watching babies and their mothers interact at the grocery store. The unique brand of love babies have for their mothers, and mothers have for their babies, is one of the strongest, most powerful things in the world; it can help them weather just about anything. When J.K. Rowling created her character Harry Potter, she gave him one crucial, ultimate gift: A mother's love. No matter how clever or creative a wizard Harry became, he survived because his mother's love was indelible; it was the one thing Voldemort could never touch. To be able to see that same kind of love played out in the face of almost every healthy baby I see, it's like being allowed to take part in a sacred, ancient tradition, and there is nothing on earth that is quite like it.

This morning, at the bedside of an ill child, I found myself surrounded by unconditional love. My roommates and best friends got engaged. It reminded of a quote by Ian Malcolm in _Jurassic Park_: "I'm simply saying that life finds a way." My friends met while they were in nursing school, they've always worked together in the PICU, and through all the hardship of studies, boards, and health crises at work, they lived and they loved, and they got engaged. It's the truest testament to the power of love—that in spite of all the bad things that can happen to the human spirit, love somehow always prevails.

I believe in the power of love, because it has also touched my heart in strange and wonderful ways. I understand implicitly that with love, all things are possible. "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Tennyson was spot-on with his observation. When my mother died, my heart broke; I disagreed with Tennyson wholeheartedly. In retrospect, I see that I closed myself off to the possibility of love, because I never wanted to feel that loss again. It is only now, when I am both loving and loved, that I understand that if you risk nothing, you gain nothing. I opened my heart and my soul, and now the only song that plays in my heart is "Love is The Drug For Me."

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 9:30 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: JSYK, "Triple F" stands for "Freshly Fucked Face."**


	25. I Need a Lifesaver

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I'm finally admitting to the world that I'm a First Class Dork. I'm the only one in the fandom who does silly A/N at the beginning of the story anymore, so for the sake of being less dorky, this will be the last one I do. I may be a dork, but I don't want to be **_**that**_** dorky. **

**Things I own: Customized Alice in Wonderland Keds flats that my bb sister gave me for Christmas, based on the Tenniel sketches. PERFECTION.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who loves Rob in navy blue as much as I do, and to my pre-reader Ladyeire72 for making sure I don't go overboard with the heavy. Thanks also to lupin4tonks for trying to beat the difference between lay/lie into my head, with little success.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: I NEED A LIFESAVER**

It's one of my rare days apart from Bella; she has Pediatric Advanced Life Support renewal certification today. She grumbled loudly when the alarm went off this morning, muttering curses about it being insane to try to function at this time of day. Since I have to go in early for rounds, I'm up and almost out the door by the time I guarantee that she is genuinely no longer sleeping. I wouldn't exactly call her awake, but she's as good as she's going to get without caffeine pumping through her veins. I bring her venti Americano to the bedside, and sit beside her as she stretches.

"Cullen, you got me Starbucks? Really? God, you spoil me. You must want sexual favors or something."

"Have I ever had to bribe you for sex, baby?" I chuckle into her ear as I kiss her neck.

Instantly, her hand finds its way into my hair, pulling me closer to her. "Can I just sex you up in bed, stop your heart, do CPR, and then get recertified? Do I really have to spend the day at PALS?"

"Well, I'm a little larger than your average child, and you won't be able to intubate me or put in an intraosseous line."

"Sure I could. I bet you'd hold still for me."

It's way too early to be laughing this hard; how can she be this funny when she isn't even awake?

"I'd do just about anything for you after you glamorize me with one of your kisses."

So what does she fucking do? She gives me one of those kisses. The kind that make me forget everything I know, and focus on nothing but the sensation of her lips on mine.

"Keep that in mind when I drag my ass home after this day of hell. I'm going to need some good, hard, Dr. Cullen brand TLC."

"Oh, I can handle the hard part. Nothing to worry about there."

She kisses me again, and I feel her hand patting around my lap, looking for my cock. I grab her hand and put it right where she wants it to be—right where I _need_ it to be—and I press down. We moan simultaneously.

I'm already cutting it a little close this morning. Typically, I like to get in before all the residents, in case they have questions, and to make sure that I'm prepared for rounds. I pride myself on my ability to give brief but thorough reports on each patient. I review strategy in my head.

_I know the patients really well right now. There were no admits last night. It isn't the end of the world if I'm not there to answer every question the residents have. I have a few extra minutes._

"Edward? Are you all right?"

I must have paused a bit too long. I gently take the cup of coffee from her hand, set it aside, and lay her down on the bed. Quickies can be good, too. She looks at me with a mischievous grin, and it's all over.

**~xXx~**

As we move through rounds, I keep getting texts from Bella. They're naughty, of course, but also hilarious. It's all I can do to keep my erection well hidden. Once again, I'm incredibly grateful for the fact that I get to wear a long lab coat to work, or everyone would know my little secret. Well, maybe not little, but hopefully still secret.

I feel my phone buzz over my ass, and I quickly pull it out to read her latest naughtiness. She is going to be so sorry tonight for teasing me so agonizingly. Vixen.

_**OMG, E, DY-ING**_

I quirk an eyebrow in response, waiting for her next text to explain.

_**Quote: New rules say all compressions s/b HARD + FAST + DEEP. Their words! Srsly! Trying SO hard not to lol!**_

As I listen to the cardiologists drone on about their latest miracle patient, I quickly reply to her.

_Phew. We're both safe. 'Cos that's EXACTLY HOW WE ROLL!_

I smirk to myself and wait.

_**Better be hard-fast-deep in about 6h 2min.**_

_Have I ever NOT been?_

_**How the fuck do u make me want u via txt? Perv.**_

_Look in the mirror, Swan._

_**THEY JUST SAID MAKE SURE 2 USE FEEDBACK-CLOSED LOOP COMM! I HAVE SOME FEEDBACK 2 GIVE U. RN. JS.**_

_U r an evil harpy. I'm in rounds! Ttlly hard. Jesus._

_**I need your compressions. Right fucking now.**_

_5h, 57 min._

_**NOW.**_

_Pay attn. You'll need those skillz l8tr. JS._

_**I fucking hope so. :)**_

_Bet on it. Now, pay attn._

_**Yes, doctor.**_

_God, it makes me hard when u say that._

_**RAWR. Bye, hotstuff.**_

_ILY. JSYK._

_**Samesies.**_

I glance at the time on my phone. I can't fucking wait another five hours. I take a deep sigh, and steer my direction back toward the cardiologist. I smile secretly to myself and realize I haven't really missed a thing.

**~xXx~**

A few hours later, I'm in the dictation room, reviewing my tape. Just being in this room once again is enough to make me want Bella. I remember her flushed, excited face when I pulled her in through the door, and the way she dove at me in the chair. I do my best to sequester those thoughts in another part of my brain, with minimal success. I press _play_ on the recorder. I'm surprised when the voice that erupts from the speaker is not my own.

_Edward, you were so naughty earlier, making me want you so badly._

_Bad boys do not get what they deserve._

_I, however, am a very good girl, so I get exactly what I deserve, and that would be you._

Her voice is laced with this sexy rasp, and suddenly I'm rock hard, imagining that Bella is sucking on my cock once again. Christ that woman is building me up so much I'm going to come like an atom bomb when I see her! I almost feel like I need to apologize to her in advance, because we are not going to have a gentle lovemaking session.

_I'm going to make it as hard/fast/deep as I possibly can._

She isn't going to know what hit her.

I give up on dictation, because that is so not happening right now. I check the time; it's too early for Bella to be done with her session, but late enough that I can head home. I let McCarty know he can page me if he needs me, and I'm out of there in less than five minutes.

As I drive the Volvo toward home, I realize that I'm taking advantage of my time apart from Bella by thinking of Bella, and plotting about Bella, and doing things for Bella. It's pretty safe to say that I don't really have time without Bella, because I feel as though she's always next to me, even when I can't see her. That sounds a little creepy, but the woman has wormed her way into my soul, and I have learned to accept that this is simply how things work now. I have no choice in the matter any more; in fact, I never have.

I decided a few weeks ago to create a playlist for Bella's iPod. I want her to hear all the songs that remind me of her. We enjoy a lot of the same types of music, and for those times when we're apart, I want her to understand that she is always foremost in my mind. In essence, I want it to communicate all the things I'm never quite eloquent enough to say on my own. I start running down my mental list of songs, all of my favorites that capture who she is and what she means to me. By the time I get to my Mac, I have a long mental list, and I try in vain to remember all of them. I scroll through my iPhone to jog my memory, and use it to get more ideas. I create a playlist and start dragging the songs over. I notice that Bella has conveniently left her iPod at home, so I can mess with it. When I finish loading the playlist, I glance at the time and notice that she's going to be here any minute.

I don't want to jump her bones the second she walks through the door, but I'm so wound up I'm not sure I can resist. I try to keep myself calm by grabbing some takeout menus; we're going to need to eat at some point. I know that whenever I have PALS, or any other kind of certification, my brain is totally wiped out afterward, so I'm trying to make things as easy as possible for her.

_Shit, what if she's too tired to do anything tonight?_

God, I'm a selfish bastard.

_If she's too tired tonight, you just sit and snuggle for christ's sake. It isn't like your cock is going to fall off from lack of use._

I run my hands through my hair, which for some reason helps me calm down and think more clearly. I glance at the menus, but nothing stands out. That's probably because I'm still thinking of Bella, even though I'm supposed to be focused on the menus, and I'm still hard as a rock. Will I ever want her less than I do now? I hope so, or I will be unemployed in short order.

Finally, I hear keys jingling outside the door, and it's like she is the spark that sets all my senses on fire. I'm at the door and have it open before Bella can even put her key in the lock. I must be faster than I realize, because I hear a sharp gasp of surprise once the door opens.

"Oh! Edward!"

She's incredibly attractive with her owl eyes, and I cannot possibly resist her, so I don't. I merely yank her inside and shut the door with my foot. Before I can do anything else, though, she twists this tryst right around. She manages to get me on the ground, and she is hovering above me.

"Wha—"

"Shhh!" She commands.

"But…" her mouth is on mine before I can say anything else.

I'm confused. I expect a Bella who dragged herself home, who is sleepy, and simply wants some food and to have some quality cuddle time. What I have is a Bella who is most definitely devouring me.

_A-fucking-men._

We don't waste any time getting down to business. Bella is literally writhing on top of me, we're both fully clothed. In between kisses, when she comes to the surface for a breath, she starts mumbling words to me.

"Fucking hard-fast-deep…"

"SO horny, need you now…"

"Teamwork... critical… need feedback…"

I have no idea what the hell she is talking about, but when Bella Swan is dry humping you for all she's worth, you don't stop to ask questions, you just let the beauty unfold in front of you.

She's managed to pull off half of her scrubs, and is working on my shirt. She stops to swear when she realizes that in order to take off my shirt, she needs to remove her mouth from mine.

"Goddammit!" she yells in complete frustration.

The second my shirt is over my head, she suddenly stops. Her eyes brighten, and I know she is up to no good.

_What?_

She flips over so she's lying on the floor, and whips off her scrubs. Naturally, she's wearing a thong. God forbid she should wear sensible underwear to an all-day certification session.

_I hope to god she was wearing scrubs that give her full ass coverage, or the guys in the session would have been tormented for 8 hours straight._

Bella is lying on her back, on the floor, clad only in a bra and thong. She turns to me and says with fluttering eyelids, "Oh, Dr. Cullen—I'm coding and I need your help!" She fans her face as if she is a damsel in distress.

_What the fuck?_

Duh, Cullen. Mouth to mouth. Hard and fast and deep. I get it.

I run to my bedroom to find my stethoscope. Bella plays it up for all she's worth, gasping and choking, adding in a "HELP!" every minute or two.

I run up to her body, pretending I'm at the scene of an accident. It's the scenario we're always given in PALS certification. I'm on my knees, next to her body, and I shake her to see if she is conscious.

"Bella, Bella, are you okay? Are you okay?"

Stop. Look. Listen. Airway. Breathing. Circulation.

I put my hand on her chest, right in her cleavage to feel if her rib cage is moving.

_Hell yes, it's moving. Maybe even fluttering a little bit._

I know I can't call 911 on my own; I need to give 2 minutes of CPR care before I call for help.

So I do exactly that.

I bend over, pretending that I'm going to give Bella mouth to mouth. The minute my lips touch hers, she talks while our lips are still connected.

"Mmmm, fuck yes. Help me breathe."

I can't really talk, so I just hum out an "Mmmhmmm."

I take my time to really explore Bella Swan's mouth, making sure there aren't any anomalies to be concerned about. Everything checks out perfectly, of course. In fact, her tongue is actually quite extraordinary, and my tongue spends time with it, trying to convey how much I appreciate its sublime beauty via my touch. Although I haven't spoken a word, I'm convinced that Bella understands what I'm trying to say.

"Edward, check my pulse. I'm not sure if my heart is still beating."

"You know, it kind of ruins the whole drill if the victim is intent on telling the rescuer what to do."

"I'm not telling you what to do. It's my conscience. Talking to your conscience. I swear."

I kiss her again, just because she's wonderful and funny and her lips are right there. It would almost be a cardinal sin of advanced life support basics to overlook lips like these.

Without my brain actively engaging my hands to do something useful, they start to travel on their own. Much to my happy delight, they happen upon Bella's breasts, and that just has to be part of any lifesaving equation. Well, any lifesaving occasion that involves Bella Swan and myself, that is.

"CPR compressions are done over the sternum, not the tits."

"Again, victim isn't supposed to be telling rescuer the steps. Unless, of course, there are new rules I need to learn."

"Modified CPR is acceptable in this case. The victim seems to be arousing."

I slide my hand down from her breast and carefully slip it into her barely there thong. As I suspected, she's already soaking wet.

_God, I love this woman!_

"Yes, I concur with the victim, she is definitely getting aroused."

"Are you using the Cullen-Modified CPR technique again?"

Her eyes are closed, but a huge grin spreads over her lips.

"Yes, I need to make sure the victim is adequately prepared for the hard-fast-deep compressions I'm about to initiate."

"Fuck, that is so hot!" she says, under her breath.

I carefully dip my finger inside of her, and she moans. Her hips thrust in an attempt to get my finger even deeper.

"I think it is safe to say that it's time for compressions."

Grabbing Bella's legs by the knees, I fold them up toward her shoulders so that her hips are raised off of the ground. I grab her thong and fling it off. Once she is naked, her pussy is right in front of me; I take a moment to just marvel at how beautiful and sexy she is.

"I don't tell you this often enough, but your pussy is a work of art, Swan." I run a finger up and down her slit, appreciating the view.

She waggles her hips with impatience. "Compressions," she breathes out.

I grin at her, loving it that she wants me as much as I want her. I put her knees over my shoulders and thrust into her in the same motion.

"Remember, hard-fast-deep," she chides.

"Oh, I remember."

I recite the words over and over in my head, in time with my thrusts.

_Hard-fast-deep, pause. Hard-fast-deep, pause. _

Bella unexpectedly grabs the back of my head and pulls my lips to hers. She attacks my mouth with the same level of intensity as my thrusts. Her breathing pattern sounds almost staccato, because a small breath escapes every time our skin slaps together.

I'm so fucking close, but I want her to come with me, so I shift position slightly. I hook my arms around the back of her shoulders so that I'm able to pull her into me more deeply with every thrust. Her eyes pop open suddenly, and our mouths part. She's there, perfect timing.

"Fuck! _Edward!_" I come as she screams my name.

"I think I'm going to like the new PALS recommendations. Hard-fast-deep is a very winning combo," I pant out, trying to recover my breath.

"Dr. Cullen, your resuscitation skills are the stuff of legend."

We lie together on the floor, still floating from our incredible sex.

"I never thought I'd have to worry about having too much sex, but I swear to god, I want you all the time. I wonder if that will always be the case for us," I explain, feeling a little badly for fucking her in my doorway without so much as a hello.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Sex every day is the only way to go."

"Yeah, but we usually have sex more than once a day."

"I can't believe you're complaining about that."

"Oh, trust me, I'm _not_ complaining. I just can't believe I found someone who wants it as often as I do."

"I know. And it's not just that—I also get your incredible parka and your beautiful physique. I'm thinking I must have done something very good in a previous life to deserve you now."

"You stole my line, baby," I lean over and kiss her, pulling her body close to mine. "You hungry?"

"I am now. Should we order out? I'm not really up to making anything."

"I was actually planning to do that once you got here, until you attacked me at the front door."

"_I _attacked _you_? I think it is the other way around, Cullen."

"Rationalize all you want, but you can't keep your hands off me. It's okay, Bella. You can admit it. It's all part of the irresistible Cullen charm."

She rolls her eyes at me. I love to get her goat, it's so much fun.

We order Thai and sit next to eat other, fishing food out of the cartons with our chopsticks. We take turns feeding each other. As I watch her tongue snake around a bite I'm giving her, it suddenly dawns on me that it feels like the most natural thing in the world to have Bella sitting at my kitchen table with me, eating the dinner that I'm feeding her.

Unexpectedly, I feel her snuggle into my side. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her as close as she can get.

"When I first met you, I never imagined you were a cuddler."

"I'm not. I just can't stand not being close to you when you're right here. I can't explain it, other than it feels wrong to have any airspace in between us. I think the phenomenon is Cullen-specific."

"Remind me to keep you away from my dad, then," I laugh.

"I meant _Edward _Cullen-specific!" she whacks me on the side.

As our laughter dies down, I lean over and rub the tip of my nose on her temple. I love the way she smells.

"Edward?" She breaks the quiet, and her voice sounds a little nervous.

"What is it, baby?"

She buries her head in my shoulder. I set my chopsticks down on the table and circle my arms around her. Her arms quickly follow suit, but she shakes her head.

I kiss the top of her head. "What? You can say it. It's just me."

"Promise not to freak out?"

"Bella, there is nothing you could say that would freak me out. Unless you want to break up, that is."

She looks up at me, alarm written all over her face.

"God, no! Never! How could you say that?"

"I was just trying to tell you that you never be afraid to tell me something, good or bad. If you love someone, you accept the whole shebang."

"I keep waiting for the thing that's going to convince you that you don't really like me as much as you thought you did. That somehow, I'll prove to you that I don't belong in your life."

"Oh my… of all the crazy—how have you failed to see how much I fucking adore you? I'd be devastated if you weren't in my life, Bella. Make no mistake about it. I can't even think about how much it would kill me. You have to know that."

She reaches up and puts her hands on my cheeks, then kisses me softly on the lips. "Oh, Edward," she sighs softly. "It just feels so perfectly right to be here at your table, eating dinner after a day at work. I was going to say that it feels like I belong here, but I didn't want to be presumptuous."

"What would you think if I told you that I was pondering that exact same sentiment about three minutes ago?"

"I'd think you were just trying to make me feel better."

"No way, you need to believe it. There's nothing better than having you here at my house. In fact, it makes my heart do funny things whenever I think about your not being here. You've already changed the whole energy of this place, just by your mere presence. I'd like you to think about staying here."

"For how long?"

"For as long as you'll have me."

"You'll get tired of me. Eventually, you won't want me here anymore."

"What the hell makes you say something like that? Are you fucking blind? Bella, you are my life now—the thought of you being anywhere else, with anyone else, makes me crazy. If I'm completely honest with myself, I'm afraid that you won't want me anymore."

"But I'll always want you; you know that!"

"All right then, let's make a deal with each other, here and now—we both want to be here, we both want to be together, and that's the way we're going to stay."

I put out my hand for her to shake, to make it official. She puts her hand in mine willingly.

"Deal."

"You know what? I have something I need to give you. This will describe my feelings far better than I can."

I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.

"Uh, Cullen, we just had sex. Not that I'm complaining…"

"You know, beds serve other purposes aside from a place to have sexual activity."

"Really?" she says, like a smartass.

"Lie down," I tell her, as I grab her iPod and earbuds. "Now close your eyes."

"What are you going to do?"

"Just trust me. Put this earbud on."

She looks at me warily as I hand it to her. "Please? This will explain everything."

She slides it into her ear, and I put the other end into mine. I select the playlist, and we lie next to each other, cuddled up. The music fills my ears, and images of Bella dancing flood my brain.

_Fuck, yes._

She tries to grab the iPod from me, probably to read the playlist.

"No," I tell her. "I want you to experience this with your ears and your brain. So everything is fresh and you don't know what to expect."

For once, she just agrees, and closes her eyes. As she listens to the first few songs, she opens her eyes and looks at me, her face a picture of beauty and serenity. I wish I had a camera right here, so I could capture that look, because she's never been this beautiful before.

She grabs hold of my hand, kisses it, and whispers "Thank you."

It doesn't take long before her breathing slows, and I can tell she's fallen asleep. I grin to myself, knowing that she did so listening to all the ways I love her. I carefully take the bud out of her ear and set the iPod aside, then resume my cuddling position with her.

In this moment, with the two of us wrapped closely together, my entire world is complete. My reason for being is right here; I'm so fucking lucky that I found Bella Swan all those years ago. I fall asleep with a sense of utter peace.

**~xXx~**

Bella is resting with her body form fitted to mine, her head tucked into the space below my chin. I know she's awake, because she grabbed my arm and pulled it even closer to her body. I love this position, because I can smell her hair and kiss her head freely, and it all just feels so right. Like it's been preordained.

"You know I'm a vampire, right?"

Trust Bella to completely distract me with something ridiculous.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Swan? Do you need some caffeine or something?"

"No! Listen. I'm up all night, I take children's blood, and I'm allergic to sunlight. You've seen how much sunscreen I need to use, and I still turn into a tomato."

"Uh-huh. You've thought about that one for a while, haven't you?"

"Yep."

"Well, I guess that I'm a vamp, too, then."

"Naw, you're up all day _and_ night. You're just a vamp wannabe."

"I'm pretty sure if we mated, that we'd have vampire children. I mean, look at my mom and dad—they mated and spawned a vampire wannabe."

"Do you want vampire children?" Her voice sounds so small and unsure.

"Well, I haven't given it serious consideration before. I always just assumed I would—I fucking love kids. I'm not gonna lie, though, Swan—I'd want your children, no matter what they are."

"Really?"

"Of course! You'll be an awesome vampire mom. I'm sure of it."

She giggles, then spanks me playfully. "Well, no matter what, we can't make vampire babies right now, because we need to get our asses to work."

"Well, vampires are known for their stealth and speed. I'm pretty certain I could attempt to make vampire babies right fucking now," I waggle my eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, but you're just a vampire wannabe, so that doesn't count. You just have slow, regular, boring human sex."

"Oh, so you've been bored by having sex with me? The 'Oh, fuck Cullen, don't you stop' screams you let out make me think otherwise."

I roll over on top of her, pressing my hard cock onto her thigh. I'm confident it can fight a convincing battle for me.

"Awfully sure of yourself…" she giggles beautifully in my ear.

I'm expecting her to move underneath me, but once again, Bella proves to me she has a mind of her own. She holds me tightly, and whispers in my ear, as if she is too shy to say it while looking directly in my face.

"More than anything, I want what your family has. I want to be Carlisle and Esme all over again. I want to give them grandchildren. I'm in love with your family, too, Cullen."

This woman who I love more than anything on this earth continues to amaze me. I cannot imagine loving her more deeply than I already do, but she proves me wrong every single time. I try to convey everything I'm feeling in my kiss, but it's never going to be enough. She's never going to understand exactly how much I love her, because it is infinite.

I slowly slide myself into her. "Bella, nothing would make me happier." We move together, in sync, taking our time to appreciate being together like this. When we come, we're looking at each other, and I've never felt closer to another human being in my entire life. It's perfect. She's perfect. I'll never want more than this—my Bella and our vampire children.

**~xXx~**

Since it's Friday, the start of the weekend, I'm going to be in charge tonight. McCarty will be available for paging, but I'm running the show. I absolutely love the challenge and feel completely ready for whatever the night brings.

I get a quick report from the resident about the more serious cases on the unit, and take some time to review the physician's notes on each patient. I'm on all weekend, so something is likely to go south. It always does.

At around 10:00, we get an unexpected admit from the ER. A 17 year-old kid tried to commit suicide when his girlfriend broke up with him. Apparently, their relationship wasn't true love in her eyes—the kid would never be as good as the character in her favorite romance novel. I grimace internally at the circumstances, and I feel awful for the poor guy. He still hasn't learned that some women you simply need to avoid. He took an entire bottle of Tylenol, then called 911 in a panic. The end result? He lived through the attempt, but the Tylenol poisoned his liver, so now he'll need a transplant. If there was one thing I could tell adolescents, it's to avoid Tylenol as a means of suicide. If it doesn't kill you outright, you'll wish you were dead anyhow. Liver failure is painful and miserable, and you invariably end up needing a transplant, just like my patient. Neither option is very pleasant. We get the kid stable and start him on a mucomyst drip to minimize the effects of Tylenol on his liver as much as possible. Regardless, we still need to get him on the transplant list. We track his liver enzyme values every two hours, and they continue to climb despite our interventions. I shake my head at the pointlessness of it all.

I'm just finishing up with the overdose patient when my pager goes off. A rapid response was called on the general peds floor. While not technically a code blue, it is still an urgent situation—we need to get there quickly to assess a patient whose condition is rapidly deteriorating. I walk briskly to the patient's room. When I arrive, I find a kid who looks perfectly normal. I ask the charge nurse why the rapid response was called, and she tells me the patient's oxygen sats dropped to 50%. I grab my stethoscope and listen to the kid's lungs. Perfectly clear. Heart sounds are fine. Color is normal. She's breathing a little fast, but not labored. She's a little sweaty, but I'm told she's been running a low-grade fever. I want to see where the O2 sat probe is, and find that it is on her foot. When I remove her sock, I see that the probe is no longer attached to the patient—it was stuck to the inside of her sock. I'm more than a little frustrated, because I just wasted about 15 minutes assessing a patient who is perfectly fine, in the scheme of things. I ask the nurse to put on a new sat probe, and the patient's sats are 94%. I excuse myself and get back to the PICU.

As I'm walking toward the physician's room, I overhear Bella arguing with the resident, so I decide to check things out.

"Look, I don't care if you think 'this is what she does'! Her breathing pattern is irregular, and I cannot get a diastolic blood pressure!"

"We talked about it in rounds today, and we aren't going to do anything to intervene at this point. She's done this every day for the past few weeks."

"Hey, guys, what's going on?"

"Yeah, this is the patient we're just going to watch overnight. She's been having these unstable episodes, but then she recovers. No one is really sure what's going on with her, so we aren't doing anything."

Oh, hell. I've got a resident who thinks he knows better than an ICU nurse. If there is one thing I always try to impress upon a resident, it is that they should never argue with an ICU nurse. No matter how much they think they know, they never know more than the nurse. This is one of the ego-driven residents who thinks he's smarter than that.

Bella opens her mouth to rebut what the resident said, but I raise my hand to quiet her. She gives me a dirty look until I wink at her.

"Okay, Tyler, let's imagine that no one said anything in rounds today. You come in the room at the nurse's request, and find the patient has no measurable diastolic pressure, despite the fact that she has an arterial line that directly measures the blood pressure from inside the heart. On top of that, the bedside nurse has checked a cuffed blood pressure on both arms and legs, and still cannot get a diastolic reading. What does your expert judgment tell you that you should do in such a scenario?"

"Well, it really doesn't matter, does it? Because we said we wouldn't intervene."

"I told you to disregard that direction. What does having no pressure mean?"

"It could just be an error in the equipment."

"True, but how likely is that? If you have an a-line pressure and pressures on all four extremities?"

Tyler looks extremely annoyed, like he has better things to do than argue with a bedside nurse and a fellow. He crosses his arms and huffs. "Well, I guess it isn't that likely."

"Okay. So let's look at the other variables at play here. Nurse Swan tells us that the breathing pattern is irregular, even though this patient is on a ventilator. You have a heart that is getting assistance from all sorts of blood pressure medications, but you have no diastolic pressure. You have a ventilator doing all the breathing work for the patient, but she is still breathing with difficulty. You have a seasoned ICU nurse telling you that something isn't right. You have all this information in front of you, and your conclusion is still going to be to wait until morning?"

"I don't want to go against what the bone marrow transplant team decided."

"Fuck the BMT team. They aren't here, and you need to make a decision. That's what working in the PICU is about. Now, what are you going to do?"

"Well, we're maxed out on the amount of vasopressin we can infuse to increase her blood pressure."

"Okay, and?"

"Should we add a different blood pressure medication?"

"What do you think? Come on, you have to think fast! This patient is unstable, Tyler!"

"I'd like to add dopamine."

"Why?"

"Because it will help the blood pressure more."

I shake my head. "Nope. What else is going on here?"

"The breathing?"

"What about the breathing?"

"It's um, unusual. The nurse says it changed."

_Now_ he listens to Bella! "Watch the way she's breathing. What does it look like?"

"Well, it's irregular. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes deeper than others."

"We have a word for that. What is it?"

"Uh… is it stacked breathing?"

"No, Tyler. Ask Bella."

She smirks at me. She loves to show up a resident who didn't do their homework.

"Well, Dr. Cullen, I believe this patient is illustrating agonal breathing."

I'm not done quizzing him yet. "What is agonal breathing?"

"It's irregular."

I shake my head. If this patient had been actively dying, she would be dead by now. I have to step in and do Tyler's work for him. I hate it when residents are unprepared.

"Bella, will you call RT? We need to make some changes to the vent settings. Tyler, aside from being irregular, agonal breathing is not really breathing. It's a series of gasps or moans. We can't hear the patient because she is on a ventilator, so we have to watch her breathing. Do you see how her chest rises? How unusual it looks? That is agonal breathing. What is happening when a patient is breathing like that?"

"Uh, they're dying?"

"Right. So the fact that you have a patient who has agonal breathing and no diastolic blood pressure means that this patient is likely trying to die. It just took you 5 minutes for me to question you, and this patient could be dead by now. Obviously, I'm not going to let that happen, but you need to step up your game, dude. Big time. What else do you notice about this patient? Before anything else happens, what do you see?"

Tyler wipes his brow. He's nervous as hell, but he still needs to figure this out.

"I really don't know."

"Swan? Can you help him out?"

"The patient is DNR, Dr. Cullen."

"Okay, Tyler, you wanted to add another med to increase the patient's blood pressure. You would have been flying directly against the orders, and there would have been hell to pay for that. I'm going to tweak the vent settings and have the nurse send some labs, but you need to get on the phone and speak to the BMT team. You also need to let the charge nurse know this patient is heading south. My guess is that the patient will expire some time today. You need to get your ducks in a row and make sure everyone is prepared for that. If you aren't, you're going to get a brand new asshole chewed, by more than one person. Got it?"

"Yes?"

"Call the docs. Let the charge nurse know. Order STAT labs to be sent. Do your fucking homework next time you work all night with me. And never—I mean _never_—question the judgment of an ICU nurse again. They're always going to be smarter than you. Always. The sooner you learn that lesson, the easier your life will be."

Tyler practically runs out of the room, and Bella has a very pleased look on her face. I'm about to apologize for his being such an ignoramus, but my pager goes off.

_Jasper._

I get to his room, and he looks dead serious.

_What the fuck is wrong now? Haven't we had enough for one night?_

He holds up a plastic Ziploc bag. When I look at the contents, I see several vials, some syringes and needles, and a blue rubber tourniquet. It takes a moment to recognize what Jasper is showing me.

"Was Mallory in this room before you?"

"Yes, Dr. Cullen, she was. I happened to find this bag taped behind the patient's supply cart. I suggest you take this evidence and have management review the videocam. I think she just shot herself in the foot."

SATURDAY, JULY 3, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_DOCTORS VERSUS NURSES_

In the best of times, doctors and nurses work together, side by side, to save critically ill patients. When you are part of a seamless team, things come together without a hitch. You recognize that everyone is a part of that team, and no one member is better or worse than anyone else. In the worst of times, you have individuals out for their own gain, or held hostage by their own ego, and the patient is the one who suffers.

I'm the kind of nurse who likes to treat my colleagues with respect. We've all been through years of school, myriad challenges, and we've all passed our board certifications before we set foot on the job. Sometimes, however, I meet medical professionals who believe that nurses are merely individuals who weren't smart enough to get into medical school, so they became nurses instead. Their perspective is that nurses need to be told what to do.

ICU nurses are at a patient's bedside throughout an entire shift. We are the ones who keep track of a patient's vital signs. We can see subtle signs that a doctor wouldn't notice by simply reviewing the patient's latest lab results. While physicians focus on clinical evidence, nurses focus on the big picture. When we combine our knowledge together, we can accomplish incredible things. When we work against each other, we can sometimes miss critical pieces of information.

Tonight, I had a patient who was starting a long cascade toward death, but a resident refused to believe me. He didn't have any explanations, but he clung stubbornly to what he felt was the truth. It made me incredibly sad to recognize that even in this day and age, physician bias against nurses is alive and well. If I could impart one idea into every resident's head, it would be that united together, we stand, divided, we fall.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 8:17 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: The actual songs from Bella's playlist are on my LJ page.**

**There are new guidelines for CPR, and I kid you not, the direction we are given is, "Give compressions hard and fast and deep." How could I ignore such great advice, I ask you?**


	26. The Plot Thickens

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Jesus. You guys like these silly little notes? You actually read them? Who knew? Okay, I heard you. A/N at the beginning stays. Thanks for embracing my dorkiness; it makes me all kinds of happy.**

**Things I own: An Edward Cullen Barbie doll that kind of creeps me out. But Mr. Kimpy and Spawn broke down and gave it to me for Christmas, so I pretend to love him. *****whispers* ****It can be our little secret. **

**Oh yeah, and Dr. GEM's parka is all mine, too. SM can't have it. 'Cos it actually has sex.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to ladyeire72 and lupin4tonks for pre-reading; your help in making sure the mystery is maintained was crucial.**

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who makes some of the finest baked goods in the world. Best luck to your latest endeavor, bb. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE PLOT THICKENS**

"Jasper, you didn't happen to leave any fingerprints on that bag, did you?"

"I was wearing gloves, so anything that happens to be on there doesn't belong to me."

"Good. Just trying to get my ducks in a row before I talk to my dad."

I pull out my phone and check the time.

_5:30 AM._

Dad is most likely on his treadmill, but I'm going to give him a try anyhow. He answers on the third ring.

"Edward? What's wrong?"

I love my dad. He's been a physician for so long, he knows that I would never call him this early unless it was an emergency.

"I hardly know where to begin, Dad." I take a deep breath in, trying to organize my thoughts in my tired, addled brain. "One of the PICU nurses found a bag of morphine vials, syringes, needles, and a tourniquet taped to the back of a patient's bedside cart."

"_What_? Really? Is she really that careless?"

"She's definitely been getting sloppier over time, covering her tracks less diligently. It's a pattern that Bella has been able to discern recently. She's documented all of it for us, but that was before we assigned Mallory to the cam room."

"Oh, they found the evidence in the cam room?"

I can't help the smile growing on my face. "Yeah, they did. I was so close to pumping my fist in the air when I saw it."

"All right, but don't get too excited. You never know if there were problems with the camera, or the angle, or something like that."

"Hmm, I didn't think about that; I guess I was just so stoked that Jasper found evidence."

"I'll be done here shortly. Can you wait around until I get in? We can talk to Maria together?"

"Sure. I'll probably just send Bella home alone—you never know how long this will all take. Should I call security to get the camera and film ready?"

"Yes, that sounds good. I'll call Maria and let her know what we've discovered."

"Do you want to meet in your office?"

"You still have a key?"

"Yep."

"Okay, I'll see you soon," he tells me.

I'm about ready to hang up when he speaks again.

"Oh, Edward?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"You done good, kid. I'm impressed."

"Thanks. See you soon."

My chest feels like it just doubled in size. It isn't that my father hands out praise sparingly; he's always been very nurturing and supportive. I'm amazed to be treated like an equal partner in this. It makes me feel so satisfied to know that I've earned the praise of this intelligent, successful man. Even if he weren't my father, I would want to impress him. The fact that he is my dad makes me even more determined to win his favor. He's such a good doctor and administrator; more than anything, I want to emulate him.

**~xXx~**

I wait until Bella is done giving report to let her know what's going down. She takes a little bit longer than usual, since her patient is critical and she needs to hand her off to a new team that will likely preside over the patient's death. It's times like that when a good nurse-to-nurse report is essential.

I watch her from the doorway, and I can't help grinning to myself. Report is a very standard medical procedure. Most medical professionals hand off a patient using some type of report system. You go over the basics, like the diagnosis and patient age, then you do a brief head-to-toe assessment of what's really going on. There are some individuals who amble all over the place, telling you information in piecemeal fashion. There are some who give you little to no information at all. There are some who take 30 minutes to give a report, when a good report shouldn't last more than 5-10 minutes.

The reason that I'm smiling is that I'm watching Bella be the consummate professional that she is, and her anal retentiveness never fails to amuse me. Don't get me wrong—she's incredibly impressive, a model for other nurses to follow. Her quirky, unique manner is what gets me. Bella is the only nurse I know who writes down her report, so she doesn't forget anything important. As if she ever would—she is far too careful to do something like that. She explained it to me once, that if she writes it down, she can be as efficient as possible, making hand-off of the patient smooth and precise. It is such a privilege to simply watch her in her element, doing what she does best.

Before she leaves the room, she goes to the bedside and leans over her little patient. She holds the small girl's hand, rubbing it tenderly, and gives her a kiss on the head. She's saying goodbye; I suddenly feel guilty, as though I shouldn't be watching such a private moment. Clearly, it is no longer private with the number of medical personnel in the room with her, but I still wish she had a little privacy to say goodbye with less chaos surrounding her. Death in a hospital is rarely quiet or serene. Life in the PICU rarely allows for perfect scenarios to unfold, however, and you have to take what you can get.

Bella slips away from the room and meets me in the doorway. "You ready to go?"

I take her hand, leading her toward the medical supply closet. It may seem lame, but at this time of day, it is the best place we can go for a little privacy. The dictation room will be full, as is the physician's workroom. This is a conversation I want to have with her alone.

Bella's eyes are wide open as I pull her into the closet.

"Edward?"

She looks like she can't imagine why we're here; she probably thinks I can't wait to bone her. While that is certainly true, I wouldn't do it immediately following the shift she just had. I do have some tact, after all.

I kiss her forehead softly before telling her. She lets out a huge, tired sigh, and I envelope her in my arms.

I can't contain my elated grin. "Jasper found something, Bella."

"What?" She's confused.

"He was moving the bedside cart in his patient's room, and discovered a baggie full of vials and syringes taped to the back of the cart."

Bella pushes me away, startled, wanting to see the expression on my face. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm not."

"Edward, Lauren would _never_ be that stupid. You know that. She may have been getting sloppier lately, but still. She wouldn't do that."

"You must be tired, baby," I say calmly. "Look, there's only one person who we're accusing of stealing narcs right now, and it is Lauren. There's no one else it could be!"

"I don't know. I just don't buy it. It feels wrong."

"I already called my dad, and he is coming in to meet with Maria. Security is going to pull the camera and film from the room."

"Oh! I forgot that they were in the cam room. Well, then, I guess we'll see exactly what happened. That's good."

"I know! So, listen, I need to hang around to meet with Dad and Maria, since I was the doc on duty when the bag was discovered. Do you want to hang, or would you rather go home, first?"

"Man, I'm so wiped out after this shift. I'd feel kind of weird going to your place by myself, though…"

"It's _our_ place, Bella. You know that."

"Well, not officially," she quirks her eyebrow at me. I make a mental note to revisit the topic soon.

After all we've been through, she still sees this as my house? Dammit, we're farther along than this. I have no idea why she is being skittish about this now, but I don't have time to debate it with her; my dad is expecting me, along with security.

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you; we're both tired. If you don't feel comfortable at the loft, why don't you just lie down in the call room? I'll join you later, and we can just stay at the hospital since we both have to be back tonight anyway. We'll be able to get more sleep that way."

"Okay. That sounds good."

We both start walking toward the call rooms, hand in hand. I'm not exactly sure when we decided to be more demonstrative at work, but we're both infinitely more comfortable doing so than we were just a few weeks ago. It probably has something to do with the fact that we seem to be affixed to one another whenever we're together. It isn't even a conscious decision that we make; we simply need to be in constant contact in the same way we need to breathe. It's a completely involuntary action.

I unlock the call room door for her, then grab some fresh linens. I quickly make the bed as she yawns at my side. Grasping her by the shoulders, I force her to sit down. I carefully remove her shoes from each foot, giving her a quick foot massage, then ask her to lie down. Her eyes close the second her head hits the pillow, and I pull the covers over her, tucking her in. She has a slight smile on her face that makes her look almost angelic.

_This beautiful woman is all mine_, I marvel to myself.

I kiss her cheek, and whisper that I'll join her as soon as I am able.

"Remember to lock the door," she mumbles sleepily. I chuckle softly, recalling the last time we were in the call room together, door unlocked.

"Absolutely, love."

**~xXx~**

I'm inside my dad's office with Sam Uley, the hospital security chief on duty this weekend. He's getting the camera and tape set up to replay. It's kind of a pain in the ass, because we have to rewind more than twenty-four hours, since Jasper didn't make his discovery until the end of his twelve-hour shift. It's going to be tedious to find this evidence, but hopefully something is there.

I ask Sam to go back to the beginning of the tape, so we can get to the start of Mallory's shift. I say a secret thank you to Bella for thinking of the cam room. Fucking brilliant, my girl.

I start to fast-forward the tape. I wish I wasn't so tired, because my eyelids feel heavy and I'm not as sharp as I need to be. Then again, how hard could it be to find her taping the bag to the cart?

Every time she approaches the cart, I slow down the tape to see her actions clearly. I'm also trying to keep my eyes on her scrub pockets, because I know Bella once informed me that most nurses stash vials of meds there. I keep watching, but I never see anything suspicious.

For the most part, the tape is clear enough to see detail, so at least we don't need to worry about that. I need to remember to tell my dad to commend security, because they've done a bang up job getting everything set up perfectly.

"Goddammit, where the hell is it?" I rub my eyes, frustrated.

I watch as Jessica Stanley enters the room and takes over for Lauren. I decide to fast forward through this segment, since we know she isn't the target of our surveillance.

When I get my hand on the remote, I see something that stops my heart cold.

_Jessica Stanley has a fucking bag of morphine and syringes in her hand!_

My mouth falls open; I feel like I am no longer able to breathe.

_What the fuck is going on?_

Sam and I look at each other, stunned. He saw it, too, so I know it isn't just my tired eyes playing tricks on me. Neither of us can say anything yet.

I rewind, and play the tape in slow motion. Stanley enters the room. She shuts the door, and looks around, probably to see if the coast is clear.

_Christ, is she retarded? How can she be unaware that the cam is in this room?_

She pulls a baggie out of her scrubs, holding it up to view the contents inside. She couldn't have given us a better shot if she directed herself in action. Seriously, she is the worst criminal I've ever seen. I feel like I'm watching the Three Stooges, only they've all been combined into one infinitesimally stupid Jessica Stanley.

I hear Sam chuckling; he's thinking exactly the same thing. He's shaking his head slowly back and forth.

I watch her grab a roll of tape, ripping a longer piece of it off the roll. She attaches it to the baggie, then bends over and firmly attaches it to the back of the cart. The idiot didn't even wear gloves or anything to cover her tracks. She used her mouth to cut the tape from the roll. She may as well have hung a blinking neon sign above her head that says, "I am planting evidence NOW."

I'm still so fucking confused—what the hell is going on? I can't make sense of the fact that Jessica Stanley is the culprit.

"You know, she just gave us a textbook example of how to do everything in your power to get caught," Sam muses, laughing.

"I know! I can't figure it out. I mean, how could someone be so stupid? It's like she's asking to get caught!"

My dad walks into the office at that moment, to find us laughing. Understandably, he looks confused. Behind him, the PICU nurse manager, Maria, looks pissed. I can't figure out why, except that she might be upset that one of her nurses has been implicated.

"Edward, what's going on? How is the tape funny?"

"It's Jessica Stanley! She relieved Lauren on a break, and essentially held the bag up in front of the camera, then taped it onto the back of the cart! You have to actually see it to believe it, seriously. I'm just floored."

I rewind the tape to the point where Jessica walks into the room. I play everything at slow speed for Dad and Maria.

I watch my dad's countenance change, from curious, to amazed, to amused. Maria just shakes her head the entire time, as if in disbelief.

"She didn't even wear any gloves," my dad remarks.

"I know! I can't figure out what she's doing!"

Maria finally says something. "I know Jessica very well; she's worked here for a long time. There is nothing I know about her character that would lead me to believe she is capable of this kind of behavior. I guess it's possible that we've been so focused on Lauren that we've missed the signs of Jessica, but I'm still just in shock."

I think back to our tubing trip on the river, when this all started to unfold. If Jessica is the one who is responsible for all this mess, how in god's name did she get so fucked up that she nearly died? Was she trying to commit suicide or something? When she talked to Bella, she said that Mallory tainted her drink. Was she creating a ruse to keep suspicion on Lauren instead of herself?

My dad and Maria have been talking while I zoned out into my own thoughts. His question to me zaps me back to reality.

"What do you think? Has Bella seen anything suspicious from Jessica?"

"Well, yeah, I was just thinking back to the river tubing trip we all took, when Bella and I had to revive Jessica. I mean, there were signs, I guess, but we must have been misreading who the culprit was," I muse. "You know, Bella is asleep upstairs in the call room—if you want, I can go wake her up. She's the one who has the most information."

Maria looks a bit troubled. "She has to come back to work tonight; I don't want her to be off for her shift," she sighs. Then again, we really do need her feedback."

My dad nods his head, and I take off. As I take to the stairs, my mind is a flurry of thoughts and emotions. I'm still in shock and disbelief that it is Jessica.

I hastily unlock the call room door, but Bella doesn't rouse. She has her earplugs in. She looks so peaceful and innocent when she is asleep. I sit carefully beside her on the bed, gently shaking her shoulders to wake her up. She looks completely disoriented when she finally awakens; she was sleeping hard.

"Edward? Wha—why… what's going on?" She finally gets out as she removes her earplugs.

"You aren't going to believe this! The tape evidence clearly shows Jessica taping the bag to the back of the bedside cart!"

She interrupts me, shock clearly written all over her face. "Get out! No fucking way!"

"Yeah, it's true. She relieved Mallory for a break, and that's when she did it. She is trying to frame her, I think."

She shakes her head, slowly; you can tell she is still foggy from sleep.

"No, I'm not sure that's right. When she talked to me about Lauren drugging her, she was totally scared and freaked out, you know?"

"Well, that's actually why I woke you up. Dad and Maria are downstairs in his office, reviewing the tape. They want some more details from your surveillance to piece the puzzle together, now that Stanley has thrown us for a loop. Are you up to it?"

"Of course. Let me comb my hair first."

She stands in front of the mirror, and I walk up behind her, simply because I can't resist the temptation to touch her. I'm so proud of my girl, figuring all of this out. I love her mind so much. I embrace her, and she giggles.

"You aren't helping, Cullen!"

I kiss her neck. "You fucking hot, sexy, intelligent chick. How am I so lucky that you're mine?"

"Knock it off, Romeo. We need to get our asses to your dad's office, and I refuse to arrive with triple F."

I squeeze her ass, then let her go, regretfully, making a small pouty noise.

We run down the stairs, and we're both relatively awake by the time we arrive at the office door.

"Sorry we had to wake you up, Bella." Maria says with regret. "Obviously, we're all very surprised at this turn of events, and we're hoping you can help us figure out what's going on."

Sam takes a moment to get a tape recorder set up, in case Bella's testimony will need to be recalled later.

Bella takes a deep breath before she speaks. "Right, I get that. I have to say, though, that I still think there is more to this than meets the eye. I've been watching Mallory, and her behavior has been suspicious. There's also the fact that I had a conversation with Jessica, here at work, about her behavior when we went tubing on the river."

"Go on, Bellar. Anything you can remember could be helpful," my dad encourages.

"I was in charge that night. It was the first time it occurred to me that Lauren might be stealing narcs, because she collected them from everyone under the guise of wasting them on other people's behalf," she starts. "Jessica pulled me aside, and asked me if I remember her saying anything before Edward and I had to revive her. I thought that was a very strange thing to be worried about, because she nearly died. Who cares what you might have said, you know?"

"I agree. It's unexpected," Dad affirms. "_Did _she say anything?"

Bella looks at me, and I nod my head. "Well, Edward and I thought she said something that sounded like 'ativan.' When she asked me about it, she was very worried that Lauren was angry with her. She mentioned that Lauren was acting strange."

"Also, remember what she said about her tox screen?" I add.

"Oh, right. She also said there were benzos in her tox screen. I kind of lit into her for being so stupid, and she told me she didn't take any benzos, implying that Lauren tainted her drink."

Bella brings her hand up to her mouth, gasping.

"Oh my god, in retrospect? What if Jessica was setting Lauren up? If she did, I bought her story hook, line, and sinker! Jesus!"

"Bella, it isn't up to you to figure out who's at fault here; there's no need to take this on yourself. We're going to do an internal investigative panel, and we'll have to call on the police and the Board of Nursing to get involved. Your testimony is going to be crucial, so I recommend that you make notes now on everything you remember, and how it happened," Maria instructs her.

"Wow. How quickly is this all going to take place?"

"As soon as we can get this resolved. Now, I need your assurances that no one outside this room knows anything about what is going on. Is that clear?" my dad says with authority.

I see Bella flush while she avoids anyone's direct gaze. "I told Jasper and Alice about it, because I wanted them to keep their eyes open, too."

"That's fine, but please ask them to hold the information in confidence. I'm hoping we'll be able to move on this in the next 48 hours."

"Right. Is it okay if we go get some shuteye now? We're going to need it if we're on tonight."

"Go! Absolutely. If anything comes up as we work today, I'll either touch base with you via text or e-mail."

Bella and I head off to the call room for a few hours of sleep before we're back to the grindstone.

We cuddle in bed together, her head snuggled right into my neck. "No rest for the wicked, Cullen," she whispers, just before I nod off.

**~xXx~**

"Fuck fuck fuckity fuckity fuck fuck. Damn it!"

I rub my eyes before I'm able to open them. I can't imagine what has Bella so worked up at… 3:00 PM, according to my iPhone.

"Bella?"

"I can't find my fucking chapstick and I think I got my period!" she howls.

"What the fuck does chapstick have to do with anything?"

She looks at me, her mouth in a wide-open shock.

"Edward, in all the time we've worked together, you've never noticed my chapstick fetish?"

That doesn't sound even remotely kinky.

"Chapstick fetish?"

"I cannot even begin to function without chapstick or a lip gloss of some sort at the ready. I always have some in my pocket or within reach. I have a tube of chapstick hidden in every room of my apartment. I have it in my purse, my backpack, my locker, my car. I buy spare tubes to replace the myriad other tubes in my life."

"I'm so confused as to why this is important to you right now."

She gives me a _look_. She doesn't need any dialogue to go along with the look—it successfully conveys all the reasons why I need to understand that this is critically important.

"O-kay, let's find that chapstick, Bella, then we can move on to more important things."

"Good answer," she kisses my cheek as a reward.

I lean over the side of the bed, peering underneath. I see a small red cylinder, and I'm pretty certain this is exactly what Bella needs. I get all ready for my moment as Knight in Shining Armor.

"Oh, hey," I say as casually as I can muster. "What is this?"

She instantly swipes it from my hand. "I _knew_ there was a reason I fell in love with you! Relief!"

"I've never known anyone who got so emotional over lip lubrication."

"_Edward_," she says, pointedly. "You love my lips. You've often told me they are the best lips you've ever kissed. Do you think that occurs by accident?"

I'm suddenly very afraid that I am going to fail this pop quiz.

"Uh… _no_?" I squeak.

"Damn straight, baby."

I let a breath out that I wasn't aware I was holding in. I've heard that mercurial female emotions can be a challenge during that time of the month, but I had no idea that would entail outbursts about missing tubes of chapstick. I might need to get a primer from my mom on this one—it would totally suck for Bella and I to clash on something as small as a tube of chapstick, for christ's sake.

I watch her move to the bathroom, slathering chapstick all over her lips. It's fucking sexy as hell, so I conclude that her obsession with lip products is completely acceptable if it results in A) Those fucking knockout lips and B) Watching her prepare said knockout lips to kiss me.

I come up behind her and lean my chin over her shoulder, inhaling her sweet smell. She lets out a small "mmmm" sound, and I move my hand over the front of her, intending to slip it into the front of her scrubs.

Her sudden jump and scream make me instantly regret my intentions. I can't imagine what the hell I've done now that could be worse than my recent chapstick debacle.

"Oh, fuck! I forgot," she explains.

She whips down her scrub pants and sits on the toilet. I watch her with interest.

She investigates the crotch of her panties, and I see what has her all upset. It's full of blood. Her face flushes beet red.

"Oh god, this is so embarrassing!"

"What? Your period?" I say in amazement.

"Well, yeah. It's embarrassing _and_ gross."

"It isn't a big deal to me, in case that has you worried. If a little blood is going to scare me, I have no business being a doctor."

She looks up at me and gives me a grateful smile. "You're the first man I've ever known who wasn't completely freaked out by my period. I hope you know that solidifies your god-like status in my eyes. Thank you," she says with genuine relief.

"What kind of idiots have you been dating, Swan? Wait—don't answer that. I don't want to know. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"How about grabbing my backpack? I've got what I need in there."

"Sure," I say, kissing her cheek. I fetch the aforementioned backpack filled with whatever mysteries Bella has stashed in there, and return them to their rightful owner.

I watch her fish around, finally procuring a small zippered bag. She pulls out a tiny, white cup that looks like a rubber tulip. She folds it into itself, almost like a New Yorker eating a hot slice. She slips it inside her pussy, fidgets with it for a minute, and then takes off her scrubs and panties. As she washes her hands in the sink, I realize that I have no idea what I just witnessed.

Apparently, the look on my face gives me away, because Bella starts to giggle.

"What?" I say, a little bashful.

"You look like you just watched me give birth to an alien!" She giggles even harder.

"No, I'm pretty sure that to give birth, something needs to come _out_ of you. That clearly went _into_ you."

"It's a Diva Cup. It's a small silicone cup that collects my period flow. I can leave it in place for up to twelve hours, then I simply remove it, wash it out, and put a new one in. I have a few that I use in rotation. Alice is the one who introduced them to me—you know how big she is on minimizing her carbon footprint. These are so much easier to use than pads or tampons, with none of the waste that goes along with it. I love them."

I just look at her, stunned. I've never heard of such a cool thing, but I really shouldn't be surprised that Bella knows all about this. I keep learning new little facets of her personality, and the more I learn, the more deeply I fall in love with her. She's fascinating, and amazing, and she's all mine.

It makes me want to stake a claim on my territory, right fucking now. Plus, as a bonus, she has nothing on the lower half of her body at the moment.

I lean over and give her the sweetest kiss I can conjure up. I want her to understand that no matter what time of month her body deems it to be, she is always beautiful and desirable to me.

"How do you do that, Cullen?" she says, keeping her lips firmly attached to mine.

"Do what?" My lips aren't giving up custody of hers yet, either.

Her hands are in my hair, so that her thumbs are over my ears. She breaks the kiss with a small complaint.

"I'm all bloaty and crampy and hormonal, but you make me feel like Helen of Troy."

"Well, I don't want to pick a fight with you, especially right now, but Helen doesn't even come close to you, baby."

"I knew it! You _are_ a wizard! You let go of all these magical words, and they seduce my brain and my body. Spells! You are full of manipulative spells!" She pokes her finger on my chest to emphasize every indignant word.

I invoke my very best inner Harry Potter voice, complete with British accent. "A wizard? Me? But I can't be… a wizard."

She gets a look in her eyes that can only be described as feral. "You _do_ understand that pulling out the British accent is a total panty dropper, right? I cannot. I just, I cannot. You turn me into mush."

"Apparently," I gesture towards her naked lower half. I take out my pocket penlight from my scrub top, the one that I use to assess papillary reaction, and wave it like a wand over Bella's head. "Alohomora."

She quirks an eyebrow at me. "Do you really think you need an unlocking spell to gain entrance into my orifices?"

"We wizards always hedge our bets, just in case."

"C'mere, Harry. My mouth is open." She grabs the collar of my scrub top, pulling me into her. Just as our lips touch together, she jerks away.

"What?"

"Is that bloody door locked this time?"

We both crane our necks, and see that the door is, indeed, locked. We laugh out loud remembering how we forgot to check last time.

"Shower?" I look at her, hopefully.

"Oh, yes. Got to clean up this mess. Why don't you get it ready while I rinse out my underwear?"

I turn on the shower to get it warmed up and procure some towels. Bella grabs a small cosmetic case and pulls out her shampoo and shower supplies.

She steps into the shower with me, and I have a warm washcloth all ready for her. She sets her stuff on the shelf, and I get to work on her body wash. It's the same scent as her perfume, Happy, and every time I smell it, I'm reminded how much it is the essence of Bella. Happy, and beautiful, and so loving.

When I feel her hand running over my cock, I smile. How does she know what I want before I even know it myself? Wait, that's bullshit. My baseline is that I always want my cock to be in touch with her body. There is something about this woman that draws me in, and holds me tight, and she has no fucking idea she's even doing anything.

That first day I saw her, in medical school? I remember exactly how I felt. It was like I had just been blasted by a tidal wave, her force was immeasurable. I consider myself to be a smart man; I'm not someone who is easily fooled, or coerced, into doing anything I don't want to do. But somehow, from the moment I smelled her, I was hooked. When she looked over her shoulder at me, I was gone.

I've never believed in love at first sight. I used to find the mere notion of it ridiculous. Bella was simply looking over her shoulder, a completely benign action, probably not even aware of what she was doing. I can say with full conviction that when our eyes met, I was on fire. I didn't know it then, but cupid shot his arrow in the center of the target that day, a bullseye. I knew—I fucking _knew_—I would never be able to live a satisfied life unless she was part of it. As much as I wanted to deny it, make light of it, I knew that I was deluding myself. Everything I've done since that moment has been in an effort to lead me directly back to her.

As I wash her hair and her body, I marvel at how exquisite she is. To her, we're just taking a shower, connecting through touch. To me? This is my destiny. I understand that this is where I belong. I will one day be who I'm meant to be, because I have Bella.

I feel her warm hands on my cheeks. "Cullen? You need caffeine? You're zoning out on me, dude!"

I look at her and smile so hard, I'm sure my face is going to fall off. I am full of love for this woman, and it is almost overwhelming me. I will never be able to adequately express just how much she means to me.

I pull her body into mine, embracing her tightly. I feel too emotional to look into her eyes as I say what needs to be said, so I whisper in her ear.

"This is what bliss looks like."

I back her against the shower wall, wrap her legs around my waist, and kiss her with everything I have in my soul. I need for her to feel exactly what it means to be connected to someone, to be confused about where one person ends and the other begins. Somewhere along the way, we've been fused together, and I'm only ever really whole when I'm inside my Bella.

"Quit being a diva and ditch the cup. I need to feel you right now."

Typically, a statement like that would be the start of an epic battle of words and banter, but not this time. I can tell she feels it, too, this emotional energy that runs a complete circuit through both of us every time we touch. It reminds me of electricity, how it is always seeking to be grounded every time it leaps from one surface to another. The minute we touch, the circuit is complete, and our energy is magnified. We're worth so much more together than we will ever be apart.

I feel Bella removing her cup, and I carefully slide my cock into her. This isn't about sex, though, not today. It's about two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. I slide in and out, over and over, slowly, wonderfully. Our eyes never lose sight of each other. We're mesmerized by what's happening between us, as if some spell has been cast upon us, and we have no choice but to move together in this dance of love.

Neither one of us says a word. I'm only vaguely aware of anything outside of Bella. I hear the sound of our bodies slapping together in the water. I hear the water shooting out of the showerhead. I hear the skin on Bella's back make slurping noises as it sticks to the tile wall, and then loses suction, in time with my thrusts.

Finally, Bella leans in and kisses me so sweetly, and I feel her clench around me. I grab her perfect ass, hold it steady, and release into her. It's a dance that has been done for thousands of years, but in this moment, it's like we're the first ones to discover this sacred secret.

Our foreheads are touching, and our panting breath joins the shower sounds all around us. I slowly unwind her legs from my waist, setting one leg down carefully after the other, and give her one more kiss, because I can't stand to have her mouth inches from mine and not to have it touch.

I turn off the shower and grab a towel to dry her body. I'm very thorough, drying every last bit, because each square inch of surface area is hallowed territory to me. I want every touch of mine to convey exactly what she means to me, just how much I love her. I never imagined I could feel this way; I'm slightly concerned that I'm going to burst open from the amount of happy, glowing energy I feel surging inside myself.

Bella puts her Diva Cup back in place, and we get dressed without uttering a word between us. I stand next to her while she combs her hair and puts it up into a ponytail, my fingers barely touching her hip. It's a completely involuntary reaction, as if my body knows I need to touch her as much as I need to breathe.

Once she's ready to go, she takes one look at me and says, "Caffeine."

I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it in agreement. We grab our backpacks and head out to Starbucks, grinning like a couple of idiots. I've apparently turned into a complete cheeseball, but I know that with Bella next to me, working together, we're fucking invincible.

**END NOTE: Period sex is a nod to the lovely MJinaspen; the Diva Cups nod is to MsKathy. I love you both. More information on Diva Cups can be found here: www [dot] divacup [dot] com**

**It is no secret that I am fail on review replies, and it makes me feel terrible. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to let me know how much they are enjoying this story. I appreciate every single comment I receive. **


	27. Under Pressure

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Talk about life imitating art… an RN in Minneapolis was in the headlines last week for stealing narcotics from patients. One man who was having a kidney stone removed was screaming in pain and had to be held down during the procedure. Her words to him: "You're going to have to man up and take the pain." This, after she gave ¾ of his dose to herself. **

**Things I own: Four one-day passes to Comic Con in San Diego. I'm not even going to go into specifics about the genius level calculus I had to do to procure them. **

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who has stood by me for over 18 months, through good stories, and bad. I love you SFM, bb. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who makes sure I use lay/lie correctly. Thanks to ladyeire72 for making sure the medical bits aren't too dry and boring. You ladies humble me with your willingness to make this story so much fun.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: UNDER PRESSURE**

_**NOTE: There is a patient death in this chapter. If you wish to skip that part, it will be labeled "WARNING SECTION." Thank you.**_

We arrive on the PICU with our hands entwined and our caffeine fix at the ready. I have no idea what happened with the stolen morphine incident today while we were sleeping, but I have to put it out of my mind for right now; there are critically sick kids who need my help tonight, and that is where my focus needs to be.

I glance around to make sure no one is looking, and when I see that the coast is clear, I give Bella a quick kiss on the forehead. In return, she gives me a heart-melting smile and walks away to find her assignment for the shift. I'm lost for a few seconds as I watch her ass, still marveling at how she can manage to look so fine in a pair of scrubs. I need to just chalk it up to a mystery, because otherwise it'll haunt me for the rest of my life. She turns around and looks at me over her shoulder, and a strange sense of déjà vu passes over me—it's the exact same look she gave me the very first time I laid eyes on her. My cock notices it, too, and tries to tell me that it is playtime. Sadly, I have to break the news to him that we're not going to play again for at least another 20 hours. Fuck my life.

I look at the PICU white board, info central for all that's happening in the PICU. I see who the attending on call is tonight; if it's going to be busy, I need to know who I'll be awakening at 3 AM for consultation. Next to the attending's name, I see something that causes me to grimace.

_Fucking perfect._

It's Mike Newton's second, and final, rotation in the PICU, and he's on with me tonight. I still haven't forgiven him for trying to pick up Bella the last time he was assigned here. I walk toward the room where he's talking to a patient, and I see him wearing a clown nose. The patient is screaming in abject fear, shaking her head adamantly, and Newton only makes it worse by pulling the nose on and off to show her that it's really just him.

Jesus, what a fucktard. I quickly make my way into the room to put an end to this Patch Adams nonsense before the patient's heart stops as a result of this clueless asshat.

"Newton," I say in a brusque tone.

He glances over at me, nodding his head, but directs his gaze back toward the patient. It's almost like he's telling me, "Yeah, I see you Cullen, but _watch this!_"

I shake my head in disbelief. This guy is supposedly interested in pediatrics, but he can't even tell that he's scaring the hell out of his patient? McCarty and I will definitely need to discuss this, that's for damn sure.

I need to put an end to this child's suffering. I walk over, stand in front of Newton to block the patient's view of him, and pull the goddamn thing off his face. I'm not gentle, because I'm pissed and I want to send him a message. He looks at me as though I have wounded his soul.

Once I have the nose in my palm, I grasp it between my fingers and tear it in half. Newton is aghast.

"Hallway. Now." I don't want to be unprofessional in front of the patient's family, and I know that if I stay in this room for another second, I'll do just that.

"What?" He asks, sulkily.

I give him a withering glance as he leaves with a pout on his face. We meet again in the hallway, just outside of the patient's room.

"Patch Adams doesn't work at this hospital, and neither does this clown nose. That child has been on sedatives and opiates, which makes her more susceptible to hallucinations, and you're going to do a push me-pull you routine with a clown nose? Do you have any idea how horrifying that could be to someone who is disoriented, especially a child?"

"I use it on the regular floor all the time—kids love it!" He says adamantly, crossing his arms in front of himself with an indignant huff.

"I don't have time to talk about this right now; we need to do a quick rounds report. Let me make it clear, however, that the clown nose routine is history, at least when you're in the PICU. Got it?"

His cheeks flush, and he flashes a brief visage of contempt. I don't fucking care; I will not have him upsetting our patients because he saw something that worked in a Robin Williams movie, for christ's sake. I shake my head in disgust and walk away.

I can feel the caffeine start to kick in, and my brain settles into its desired state of mind for the shift in spite of the fact I have Dr. Fucktard with me tonight. Newton and I go from room to room, while he explains the case history and what happened on the previous shift in painful detail. I'm not in a very charitable mood with him due to the Great Patch Adams Incident, and the way he's progressing through these rounds is doing nothing to improve my outlook regarding his skills and level of judgment.

When you're a resident, you can expect to be quizzed on every patient during rounds. The last thing I want to hear is a resident spitting back the rhetoric they heard on morning rounds. If you're going to be a successful doctor, you need to be able to think for yourself—when the shit hits the fan, you have to know exactly what you're going to do at the drop of the hat. I'm not feeling any confidence in his ability to perform at that level.

In the medical profession, we tend to grill our doctors-in-training hard, frequently putting them on the spot. We do so for a very important reason: You need to be able to wake up from a dead sleep and save a dying kid when the situation calls for it. Because of that, we are equal opportunists in dishing out torture to everyone moving through the system—no one is exempt from our rigorous interrogations. At the end of the day, both the person who graduates at the top of the class and the one who is dead last can call themselves doctor. When a resident underperforms, however, it's very hard to get rid of them. Residents who are slow or not as talented tend to get passed along without so much as a second glance, so they become someone else's problem. It's a shitty situation, admittedly, but that's the stark reality.

I'm thinking all this to myself, processing it with the half of my brain that isn't listening to Patch Adams drone on. I imagine the Charlie Brown adult voice stating _wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-wah_, and I try not to smirk at myself.

It's a good thing I just had my coffee, or my entire brain might not be paying attention. That is, until I hear a line that catches my attention.

"…_child has a history of upper respiratory infections, but mother refuses to vaccinate..."_

Hold up one fucking second.

The child we're referring to just had a septic Strep A infection that nearly killed him, on top of a case of Influenza A. What's more alarming, he caught them during the summer months, which is typically the time when children are least susceptible to such serious infections. I shudder to imagine what would have happened if the child had become septic last February, during the height of our local influenza outbreak. I honestly don't think he would have survived, had that been the case.

As if septic Strep A and Influenza A aren't taxing enough on this child's immune system, there's also a pertussis outbreak raging through his county. With his incredible respiratory compromise at present, the likelihood of his getting a fatal case of pertussis is extremely high. When I discuss this situation with his mother, she assures me that he's already had pertussis, and thus has natural immunity.

Now, I do understand that this woman is doing what she feels is best for her child. Her actions are poorly informed, but she isn't really trying to hurt him. The fact of the matter remains, however, that this child barely survived the illnesses he just had—for her to refuse vaccinations is, at best, negligent. However, as medical providers, we can't force her to vaccinate him, as frustrating as that is.

We discuss how vulnerable the patient is for respiratory issues in the future, but she refuses to listen to reason. She continues to rebuff the notion of vaccinations for her child. I try to impress upon her that vaccines were created for a reason—to prevent painful, debilitating, and fatal illnesses. She doesn't seem to comprehend that dying from pertussis, or Influenza A, or any other vaccine-preventable disease is completely unnecessary. What's more, she refuses to discuss the topic with me any further; she _will not_ subject him to the vaccines.

I have no other option left but to tell her the naked truth.

"You should know that if your son gets pertussis, the chance he will die from it is likely. Let me define _likely_ for you—if he was in a horse race, he'd be the odds-on favorite to win. If you replace the word _win_ with _die_, that's your son," I pause a moment to let the thought sink in. "Look, he barely made it through sepsis and Influenza A. He'll to continue to be at risk for any type of illness circulating in the community. All I can do is tell you that he probably won't see adulthood without vaccines."

The look on her face is pure, undistilled vitriol. "You can't make me do that, it's my legal right to refuse vaccines! I just know the shots are more harmful than the diseases. They're full of dangerous chemicals. Please write in my son's chart that I formally requested to have the medical staff stop harassing me about vaccines, because I'm _not _going to change my mind."

I nod my head, and leave her behind. It's clearly a lost cause.

We finally make our way to the most acutely ill child on the unit, a kid who's on Extra Corporeal Membrane Oxygenation—ECMO. When we get a patient back from the OR on ECMO, it's never a good sign; it means the surgeons could not stabilize them. For all intents and purposes, ECMO is a heart-lung bypass machine. It's the most invasive, intensive means we have to keep a nearly dead person alive. Sometimes, that dead person actually comes back to life; frequently, however, they do not. There are only a small number of children's hospitals nationwide that even use this technology; it requires highly specialized staff to operate it in a 24/7 environment.

During open-heart surgery, the patient's core temperature is slowly cooled via the heart-lung bypass machine, until it reaches the desired temperature, usually around 82 degrees. Then, they either pour a solution of cold, sterile saline water over the heart, or inject a highly concentrated form of potassium chloride directly into it, stopping it instantly. When the surgical procedure is complete, we warm the body back up slowly via the heart-lung bypass. Once it reaches the right temperature, a defibrillator is used to shock the heart back into a regular rhythm. Sometimes, the heart decides to be a petulant child and refuses to do its work, so we have to give it some TLC.

In those rare cases where we simply can't get the heart to kick back into function, the choice of last resort is ECMO. Large tubes are sutured into one of the child's veins and one of their arteries, and this is used to circulate and oxygenate the blood via the ECMO circuit. This process allows the child's heart and lungs to rest and heal.

Our little patient has a heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot, informally known as T of F. It's nearly impossible to take one of these hearts and make it operate like a normal one. These kids typically get a special repair called a shunt; it's certainly not perfect solution, but without it, they would quickly die.

One of the problems plagues T of F kids is _tet spells_. When they have a spell, they turn blue. The first time I saw one, I was nearly incredulous that a human being could take on such a dramatic color. I'm not talking a faint, or pale, blue tinge—these are lips the color of blueberries, along with purple fingernails. You don't mistake for a second that something is terribly wrong with the child.

When our ECMO patient arrived at the OR this morning, he got upset when they initiated anesthesia, and experienced a critical tet spell. The surgeons decided to saw open the sternum emergently in order to save the patient. When the surgical repair was complete, they tried in vain to restart his heart three times, but ultimately, they had to give up. The patient came back to the PICU on ECMO, and they've been doing everything possible to keep his blood pressure stable all afternoon.

I take a quick scan of the kid; he looks like a victim of trauma. He's battered and bloody, probably unrecognizable to his parents. His eyes are so puffy and bruised, you could swear he's been punched. He has a breathing tube attached to a mechanical ventilator, which is breathing for him. The ECMO cannulae tubes are sewn into the right side of his neck, driving oxygenated blood through his heart, lungs, and body continuously. In order to keep the blood flowing freely through the equipment, we use a blood thinner called heparin to avoid clots. The result of this is that ECMO patients tend to ooze blood from any possible orifice in the skin's surface; nurses are forever wiping it away from the child's body.

At the end of an open-heart operation, the sternum is usually wired shut at the junction of each rib and the skin is closed over it with either staples or sutures. The wire stays in place permanently, unless there are subsequent operations. Our patient's chest is still open. Had the surgeons closed it, the post-operative swelling in the thorax would eventually cause the heart to stop beating. Naturally, there needs to be some kind of protective barrier in place to guard against infection and exposure. Cardiac surgeons use a very thin material that's sutured in place, called a silastic membrane. You can literally see the heart beating through the material. A clear, sticky film called Tegaderm is put over the skin surface and the silastic membrane to keep the site clean. This is kept in place the entire time a patient is on ECMO. If they're successfully weaned off, the chest can be surgically closed right in the PICU.

I look at the various IV drips the patient has infusing—there are at least twenty IV pumps attached to poles at the bedside. Epinephrine and vasopressin, to increase blood pressure and help the heart beat more vigorously; heparin; bumex, to decrease swelling; vecuronium, a paralytic, to keep the patient still; fentanyl, an incredibly potent painkiller that makes morphine look like candy; versed, an anti-anxiety medication, to keep the patient unaware of their surroundings; TPN and lipids that supply nutrients intravenously until the patient can eat once again; and finally antibiotics, to keep infection at bay. We add or remove medications depending upon the patient's condition, and it's no wonder that they tend to swell so much after surgery with all the fluid pumping through their veins.

The patient has a foley catheter to collect urine, so we can gauge the exact amount of output. Whenever a patient has heart surgery, there's a risk of damage to the kidneys, so we do what we can to support them post-operatively. Aside from checking lab values, the easiest way to gauge kidney function is to track exactly how much urine they're producing. If it's less than one milliliter per kilogram per hour, I'm going to be worried. Looking at how swollen this kid is, it looks like I have every right to be concerned.

_Shit._

I take all the bells and whistles in, imagining I'm this patient's parent. Head to toe, this is what I see:

A pair of swollen, bruised eyes;

One breathing tube taped to my son's mouth, giving him the appearance of fish lips;

One clear tube in the right nostril, used to remove gastric secretions;

Two large tubes sutured into my child's neck;

One central IV line sutured into the other side of said neck;

One arterial line sewn into my child's right radial artery, in the wrist, to keep track of blood pressure;

An open chest where I can see my son's heart beating;

EKG leads

Four tubes coming out of the open chest to drain excess blood;

Four thin wires that lead from the heart to a contraption hanging at the bedside;

A tube coming from my son's penis, used to drain his urine;

And one oximeter probe wrapped around the tip of his penis, because the nursing staff can no longer get an accurate oxygenation read using his hands or feet.

There are tubes, wires, or lines in nearly every one of the patient's orifices. Bella's told me before that the hardest thing she has to do as a nurse, aside from consoling parents of a child who's dying, is showing them a kid on ECMO. The patient is always a bleeding, oozing train wreck that only barely resembles a human being; it looks more alien than anything else.

In all the time I've been a doctor, I've never really thought about a patient from the parent's perspective. The scene is oddly normal to me. Now that I look at it this way, however, it's no wonder the parents panic so frequently. Jesus.

When parents say goodbye to their child before surgery, they rarely realize, or cannot understand, that this might be their last chance to smell their warm, comfortable child. If the child doesn't survive, their next moment with them might be cold, sterile, bloody, and shocking. If the child ends up on ECMO, it's not much of an improvement. No matter how good a doctor or nurse's communication skills may be, there's no getting around how awful these kids look.

**~xXx~**

Newton and I finish report on the ECMO kid, and I excuse him to go look at labs, or anything else he needs to work on. If it isn't within 10 square feet of me for at least 60 minutes, I'll be perfectly happy. This gives me time to focus on how the ECMO patient's _really _doing. I don't want to deal with an emergency tonight, but my gut tells me the kid'll arrest. As much as I do not relish calling the cardiac surgeons at four in the morning, I mentally prepare myself for that eventuality.

If there's any good news to be had about this patient, it's that Bella and I will be working closely together all night. He's particularly unstable, even for an ECMO kid, so he needs to be watched like a hawk. Things can turn south so quickly with these patients. It makes me extremely grateful to know that Bella will have things under control. ECMO arrests are always a bloody mess, but Bella's our best ECMO nurse, hands down.

As I muse over the myriad issues at hand, Bella works to clean the patient up. There's fresh and dried blood all over him, the bedding, and the floor. In order to make bed changes quick and efficient for ECMO patients, the nurses stack a pile of blankets with drop cloths sandwiched in between before the patient is put onto the bed. When the top blanket becomes too saturated with blood, a team of four individuals works to carefully lift the patient while another quickly removes the soiled linen. On top of the clean blanket, Bella puts special cotton pads under the areas with active bleeding, to help keep the blankets clean for as long as possible. Watching her work to accomplish this is fascinating. She's a study in focus and concentration, and it reminds me of a few more reasons why I love her.

As if she can tell that I'm thinking about her, she looks up at me and blushes. If it wouldn't be insane to do so, I would ask her to marry me on the spot, then I would pull her into the corner and do all kinds of things that aren't considered to be polite in public. I quickly shove my hands into my lab coat pockets to cover up the consequence of my lascivious thoughts.

"Did Newton tell you that my kiddo was on bypass for 4 ½ hours before they even got him on ECMO?"

"No, he fucking didn't. Goddammit!" I curse. This is no minor omission; he missed passing along vital information to me.

The longer a patient is on bypass, the more there are likely to be bad outcomes; surgeons always try to minimize it. I know that even 90 minutes can be long; 4½ hours is an eternity. Before I even ease into my shift, I know this patient's outlook is dismal.

"Did he tell you that urine output has been less that one mil per kilo per hour?"

"How much less?"

"I'd be generous if I said it was 0.25."

"How the hell do I not know about this?" I fume.

"I think the ECMO circuit kind of freaks him out."

"Kill me now, please?" I tell her with a prominent grimace.

She grins and shakes her head. "Hell, no. I have plans for you, Cullen. PLANS," she emphasizes with her eyebrows.

I put my hands right back into my lab coat pockets. That woman is fucking deadly. The way she mixes serious business with pleasure? Gives me a boner of teakwood level hardness.

_Minx._

"Sooo, increase the bumex drip, _doctor_?" She winks. She knows what that fucking does to me. Like I'm not already hard enough?

"What's the current rate?"

"0.08 mikes per kilo per minute."

"Shit, it's already that high?"

"Afraid so."

"All right. Go up to 0.1 and see how he does with that."

"You gonna write an order for that? Or am I going to have to chase you down at 6:00 tomorrow morning?"

I give her a look that tells her I'll be chasing her down tomorrow morning, order or not. She blushes.

_Fucking hell._

She's been cleaning up the patient the entire time we've been talking, but she stops abruptly, and I hear a slight intake of breath. I look at her face, and I can see that she's fighting a smile. I follow to where her eyes are affixed.

I should have known.

She's looking directly at the O2 saturation probe on the tip of the patient's penis.

"Swan, you're a class one perv, you know that? Just saying."

"Fuck you, Cullen," she whispers under her breath.

I start to leave for the front desk, but she still manages to slap my ass on the way out.

"Let me know if his urine doesn't pick up soon. I'm sure you'll be on top of that situation, since you can't seem to keep your eyes off of his junk." She tries to make a fierce _grrr_ noise at me.

I grin to myself.

**~xXx~**

**WARNING SECTION**

For some reason, I decided that it was a really good idea to fuck Bella in the corner of the PICU, in front of all my colleagues. I'm running the show tonight, and this is the choice I've made? What the hell?

I've got her up against the wall, watching her tits bounce up and down with every thrust, and I hear my phone buzzing in my back pocket. It's not my normal ringtone, though, and when I stop mid-thrust to think about that, Bella disappears. I'm standing stark naked in the PICU now, wondering where the hell my phone was, since I'm not actually wearing any clothing. Plus, I'm fucking horny, and now Bella is gone. I'm not amused by this situation at fucking all.

Her tits looked even more amazing than usual, too.

I can still hear my phone buzzing, but I have no idea where it is. I open my eyes, and suddenly the answer arrives at lightspeed.

_Jesus christ, code blue._

Even though I'm horny and hard as hell from the residual effects of my dream, the minute my brain acknowledges the alarm, I'm instantly transported into code blue mode. No matter what I'm feeling in the moments immediately preceding the code—hunger, fatigue, the need to urinate, my sore back—the instant I hear the alarm, those things vanish. The only thing that matters is finding the room where the alarm's flashing. My mind automatically skips ahead, trying to guess which kid it might be, and what kinds of drugs and instruments I'll need. I always have a handful of possibilities and ideas before I even walk through the patient's door. I know what questions to ask the bedside nurse. I know what list of meds I want to use. All of this happens quickly, in less than a minute. It is such an automatic response, I don't even question it. It's as natural and unforced as breathing for me; I'm hardly even aware that I'm doing it.

_CODE BLUE, ICU, ROOM A2. CODE BLUE, ICU, ROOM A2. _

Shit. The ECMO kid is coding.

I'm running behind a nurse who's pushing the code cart down the hallway. The flashing blue lights overhead reflect off of the brushed steel surface of the cart, and it almost looks like it has its own internal light blinking away in tandem. The charge nurse is already kicking people out of the room to free up space. Even at 2 AM you get gawkers. It's inevitable.

Those of us who work in trauma, or ERs, or ICUs, we're the adrenaline junkies of medicine. When we feel the adrenaline, it's like a siren song. We can't NOT listen to it. It's always been that way for me, since I've been old enough to walk. Sick though it may be, I fucking love it.

When I step into A2, everything is a sort of quiet-busy. It sounds strange, but when the shit is hitting the fan, there is no screaming, rarely any arguments, or other forms of angst. For the most part, we all become cool and focused, and that's exactly what is going on now.

I stand at the foot of the bed, identify who I am, and look directly at Bella to get the assessment. The respiratory therapist is bagging the patient while Bella squeezes the patient's heart. Since the patient has an open chest, we can't do any chest compressions; open massage to the heart is the only thing we can do.

Bella quickly talks over her shoulder.

"Newton, I need you to continue compressions while I give Dr. Cullen the assessment."

Newton stands there.

"Newton!" Bella says sharply. "Get the fuck over here. Now!"

He still doesn't fucking move.

I don't have time to wait for him to put on his big boy pants. I move directly across from Bella, and when her count reaches thirty, I quickly move my hands in to replace hers.

I glance at the respiratory therapist. "Do two breaths for every thirty compressions, starting now."

Bella steps aside and gives me a run down.

"I was getting ready to draw some labs, so I turned off the A-line alarm."

I nod my head silently, still counting my compressions.

"I was drawing up the blood, and I glanced up at the monitor. His blood pressure stopped reading. When I looked down, I noticed that there was blood squirting out from the cannula site."

I look at the lines, and notice that the ECMO tech (another respiratory therapist) smartly clamped the cannulae, which slowed down the blood loss considerably.

"Once Bree clamped the lines, I started massaging the heart right away, and she pushed the code alarm."

"How long has it been?"

Bella looks up at the clock. "Six minutes."

"Has Aro been called?"

"His ETA is about ten minutes."

_Fuck. How am I going to make this kid last until he gets here?_

"Give him 0.1 of epi."

I watch Bella's hands swiftly administer the dose.

"Point one is in."

The charge nurse parrots what we've done, so the entire room is aware of what's happening. "Code dose of epi, point one given."

"I need someone to assess this kid's pupils."

No one moves.

"Newton! Get your ass in gear and check the fucking pupils! _Now!_"

Finally, the idiot moves.

I watch him get into place, and notice that his hand is shaking. He's scared shitless.

"Uh, they're not moving."

"They're fixed?"

"Y-y… yes. I think so."

"Dr. Newton, this is a code blue. We don't have any room for _I think so_. Now, are they fixed, or not?"

"Shit. One of the pupils is blown."

"_What_?"

"Yes, one is blown. I'm certain."

"Damn. Page ultrasound, stat. We need a view of the head!"

I want to get this kid to MRI, but it's out of the question; he can't be moved with all this equipment while coding. At least an ultrasound will find a bleed.

We're still pushing meds, massaging the heart, doing whatever we can to hang on until the surgeon gets here.

"Swan, what was our last BP?"

"There was no diastolic."

"Fuck. That's what I thought. Push ten mils per kilo of NS. Has anyone called the parents?"

Silence.

I see the chaplain standing in the doorway. "Liz, please find someone to call the parents and explain what's going on."

"On it, Dr. Cullen."

The ultrasound tech pushes her equipment to the head of the bed.

"One pupil is blown, I need to know how bad the bleed is," I explain.

As she starts the scan, Aro walks in. One brief look at his face, and I know he is _not _happy.

"How the fuck did we lose the cannula?"

"We're not exactly sure, but it looks like the sutures blew," I say matter-of-factly.

Aro opens his mouth to yell at me, when the ultrasound tech's voice breaks our tense stand off.

"Dr. Aro, the cannula is the least of your problems. This kid has a grade four head bleed."

I watch his head snap over in her direction, as his eyes scan the screen in front of her.

"Aw, hell. Goddammit!" He throws his stethoscope at the ground in disgust.

He looks up at the clock. "I'm calling it. Time of death, 2:42 AM."

**WARNING SECTION COMPLETE**

**~xXx~**

The charge nurse mulls around, gathering all of our signatures for the code sheet. I feel numb; it's what happens the minute the adrenaline rush is over. Your body and mind both crash.

I'm vaguely aware of movement going on around me. I see Bella tidying up the body so it's presentable to the parents. I know she's done this same thing so many times before, and I marvel at her ability to be careful and efficient at a time like this. She just spent 45 minutes in the most intense experience another human being can face, but still she's able to pick up the pieces and help everyone else cope. As I watch her, a sudden realization hits me: My love for this woman is so profound I feel like it's going to swallow me whole. She's the strongest, most capable person I've ever known. Her capacity for love and compassion can't be matched. She's a stunning, natural beauty. She's funny, and brilliant. She's fiercely loyal.

_My woman is invincible_.

I watch the parents approach the bedside. The mother, who's been sobbing in grief, intensifies her outpouring of emotion when she sees the bloody body that was once her precious child. The father's lips are pursed closely together, as if the tight seal between them will somehow keep every sorrowful thought contained inside. I feel like I have to puke every time this happens; I fucking hate it when we lose a child. Aro has already given them all the details, so they understand what took place, as much as one can ever really, truly grasp the tragic death of a child. I know that the minute I leave work to go home today, everything in my life will be exactly as it always is. For them? Every minute will only deepen the intense loss they're feeling; their lives have been forever and irreparably changed.

Bella's speaking softly to the mother, probably asking her if she wants a plaster cast of her child's hand. I see her nod her head as a new batch of tears cascades down her cheeks. She grabs a lock of the patient's hair and cuts it off, placing it in an envelope for the parents. Bella was thoughtful enough to drape a blanket over the child's torso, covering up the bloody evidence of his death. I watch the mother scoop her child into her arms one last time, cradling him gently over the bed as best she can.

There's never a good time to approach a family following a death, but I see an opening here, and step in.

"My name is Dr. Cullen; I was in charge of the code until Dr. Aro arrived. May I just tell you that words cannot possibly express what I feel at the passing of your son. I'm so sorry for your loss."

We all stand silently at the foot of the bed for a few beats, not having the faintest idea of what to say next, because words are truly inadequate. How does Bella do this with so much grace and compassion? I'm painfully aware that I could never do her job.

"Bella, I'm going to go finish some paperwork at the front desk. If you have any questions, just give me a page, okay?"

"Of course, Dr. Cullen."

I put my palms on the backs of both parents. "If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know. Again, you have my condolences."

_You have my condolences? Even when words are hard to come by, that phrase is high on the list of crap platitudes. It's just one step better than 'It was meant to be.' Fucking genius, Cullen._

I need to document my role in the code, so I sit down at a computer near the front desk. These are the worst kind of notes to write, because you have to relive everything in horrid detail. Every mistake you made becomes so obvious in retrospect, and I always end up kicking myself in the ass over all those errors. As amazing as you feel when you successfully turn a code around, you feel just as dejected when you don't. The highs and lows tend to be pretty extreme, and there isn't a lot left in between. There are definitely days when I leave work wondering whether or not I'm bipolar. On top of that, everything seems so much worse when you're tired; the desperation you feel is bone deep.

As I finish up my note, I see Bella walking down the hall in my peripheral vision. Now, I'm not an impulsive man by any means, but the thought that pops into my head the moment I see her cannot be contained. Without even thinking it through, I quickly send a text to Bella.

_**Meet me in our closet. STAT. Pls.**_

About 30 seconds later, my Bella is standing in front of me, eyes wide. She looks at me with so much compassionate concern, it makes my heart race.

"What is it, Edward?"

"I just realized that I never want to go through another code again unless I know that at the end of the day, I'll always come home to your open arms. I want you to move in with me, Bella. As soon as is humanly possible. I need this. I need _you_."

"I know the code was tough; you don't need to rush into this…"

I have to interrupt her, because she is so very wrong.

"No, actually, I _do_ need to rush into this. I just saw this with complete clarity. We need to be together in order for us to weather these storms in a healthy way. If I always have you to come home to, I can bear these losses. The thought of going home to an empty bed kills me."

"I don't want to move in with you just to be a bed warmer…"

"No, I didn't mean it like that! It's not that I need someone in my bed, it's that I need _you_ in my bed. Please, Bella. Please move in."

I lean over and give her a gentle, reassuring kiss, hoping it will help me to seal the deal. She lets out a small sigh, and I feel a smile bloom on my face, even though we're still kissing. She pulls away from me slightly, and I see her happy countenance. I am instantly reassured.

_Thank fucking god. _

"Yes. I will. You know I need it, too."

"Goddamn, I love you so much."

"Ditto."

Our kiss is not so gentle this time, but I'm certainly not complaining. I just need to get her home so we can finish what we've started. I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket, and I let out a frustrated huff. I glance at the number.

_My dad?_

"Dad, I'm sorry, it's a really bad time. The kid we had on ECMO just died, and it's a bloody mess here."

"I'm sorry, Edward, but you should know that I just got word from my friend at Seattle Police—Lauren Mallory was found dead an hour ago. Please be sure to tell Bella, but I'd like to keep it under wraps otherwise. I'm on my way into the hospital now, as is Maria."

All the air suddenly rushes out of my lungs. I cannot even manage to squeak out a word; the only thing I can do is drop my phone.

SUNDAY, JULY 4, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_THE CIRCLE OF LIFE_

Sometimes, in the PICU, progress is measured in 15-minute intervals, like the length of time between reading blood pressures. It can be measured in minute quantities, like the amount of epinephrine required to restart a heart. It can be measured in huge quantities, like the kid who was bleeding out so quickly we were literally squeezing pints of blood into him as fast as we could.

Tonight, my job was to watch a child start a slow cascade towards death.

The most critical events in life—birth and death—are some of the most intimate moments we can share with people. It is so intimate, your soul is bared for everyone to see. There's no getting around showing who you really are in such moments. As a nurse, it is both a privilege and duty to share these kinds of experiences with patients and their families. Sometimes, it is a horrible privilege, one we would never ask to have, but it is our obligation to help families, parents, children, loved ones, transition through these moments. That's what we're trained for, after all. We're the clean up crew.

At my job's most basic level, I watch kids die for a living. Many times I watch them live, and get better, but for many, a night with me means they are at the end of their rope. I love what I do, and wouldn't trade it for the world. It is an honor to spend time with children and their families, offering them love and comfort just when they need it the most. Needless to say, after a night of work, I am mentally and physically exhausted. When I come home, there is one place I can go to ease my exhaustion, and that is my boyfriend. He allows me to slip away and escape for a little while, and that helps to reset my world so everything is in its right place. He enables me to refresh, recharge, and go back to face my job all over again. If there is one thing an ICU nurse really, truly needs, it is an understanding and supportive partner. When that partner happens to be in the same field, experiencing the same highs and lows, alongside you, it allows you to achieve the perfect balance. It allows you to be who you need to be in order to ease a parent's loss and suffering, day in and day out. Without him, my job is infinitely more difficult. I wonder, what did I ever do before he was mine? I can hardly remember, but hopefully, I will never need to be without that incredible support system again.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 8:02 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: Mike Newton's clown nose is thanks to aciepey. **


	28. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: A special happy birthday shout-out for Twilight Mundi, whose birthday is TODAY, March 26th. All my best wishes for a lovely day, my dear friend; you are the smartest, funniest, most loyal naughty librarian I know. :)**

**I make reference to an NST in this chapter. It stands for Nursing Station Technician. In the PICU, they act as a nurse's aide. They bring us supplies, answer the phones, and help us do things like weigh patients. They are an invaluable part of our ICU, and they make our lives much easier. **

**Things I own: A ridiculous Cheshire Cat grin that I can't seem to wipe off of my face.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who makes everything beautiful. Lupin4Tonks is responsible for making my grammar impeccable, for which I am eternally grateful. Ladyeire72 keeps the technical stuff from becoming dry and boring. I am so lucky to have these three lovely ladies on board with me. **

** CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM**

It's been days since I had a good night's—or good day's, rather—sleep, and I feel like the walking wounded. Caffeine just isn't cutting it anymore. What's worse is that I'm in charge tonight, and I feel like I was run over by a truck while I slept. It's always like that when Edward and I are on different schedules. I'm amazed at how quickly I've become used to sleeping with him.

To say that our lives have been turned upside down would be the understatement of the century. We were completely unprepared to face the Fourth of July fireworks let off when Lauren Mallory was found dead.

Her death was so unexpected that Edward and I couldn't even discuss it at first. It seemed completely surreal. Once I actually digested the information, my disbelief quickly turned into frustration. Not long afterward, my frustration turned into anger. It is epicly unfair that she will never be held accountable for what she did. I guess when you're addicted to opiates, though, overdosing is always a possibility. None of us were really surprised to find out that she simply got the dose wrong; it happens all the time when you increasingly need a higher dose to chase the high your nerve endings crave.

Since then, Jessica Stanley has been a surprising wealth of information. She was lucky enough to have an alibi for the night Lauren died; turns out she was sleeping with a med student. It's probably the one time in her life when that could be considered a wise choice. The story that she has consistently stuck to is that she was upset by the fact that Lauren was getting away with stealing narcs, so she decided to speed the discovery process along. At first, the review board wanted to charge both of them equally, but since Lauren died, Jessica is the only one who knows the truth. Instead of losing her job and going to jail, like she would under normal circumstances, Jessica is on probation with the hospital. She has to do random drug testing for the next year. She can't dispense any type of controlled substance, and she now has to work on a general care floor. If you ask me? She got off easy. She was abetting Lauren for over a year, it seems, and it feels like she merely got slapped on the wrist.

Unfortunately, Jessica decided to share the whole story with me. I didn't want to know the specifics, because I knew it would just make me angry, but she went right ahead and told me anyway.

_"I was so tired of seeing her get away with stealing. It was so wrong! At first, Lauren wanted to see if she could get away with it. She was pissed that everyone had such a cavalier attitude about handling narcs, and she wanted to show off the gaping holes that are in our narcotic protocol. Like, she got off on that challenge, you know?_

_"She ended up with a huge stockpile of the stuff, because at first, she never meant to do anything other than steal them without getting caught. After a while, she decided to use some of it, once in a blue moon. The first time was when we went to a party, but I'm pretty sure she never expected to get to the point where she _needed_ to take it. Before I knew it, she ramped up her use, she started getting sloppy at work, and it was becoming a problem. _

_"I knew about it, even though I never asked her to share this secret with me. She was my roommate and my best friend—how could I have denied my knowledge? No matter what, I would be implicated along with her, but she still needed to be stopped. It was getting out of hand."_

_"But Jessica, why the hell didn't you go through the formal channels to get help for Lauren? What you did, it makes no sense! You've been implicated, and you're being investigated! At the very least, you're going to end up on probation. You're probably going lose your license. I mean, you've committed a prosecutable offense! Lauren isn't even around to refute or affirm your version of the story."_

_"I'm not stupid, Bella. I know that you think I am, but I'm not. The culprit ended up getting a taste of her own medicine. I pointed them in the right direction. I'm confident that I won't get fired."_

_"I don't share your level of confidence, but I guess you'll just have to wait and see how it all plays out. When are they going to deliver their verdict?"_

_"Dr. Cullen told me I should know in about a week."_

_"Look, I have to run to the bed meeting… see you around."_

_"Bella?"_

_I looked at her with impatience; I was already late for my meeting. "Yeah?"_

_"Um, thanks. You know, for everything. I might be dead if it wasn't for you and Edward."_

_Was she fucking kidding me? As if I would have let her die?_

_"There was never any question of not helping you, Jess. Don't forget that. I'm just sorry that Lauren decided you needed to be kept in line in such a dramatic fashion."_

_"Yeah, well, she was pretty fucked up by then, and more than a little paranoid. She wasn't thinking clearly. I don't really think she meant to do me in."_

_I wasn't so sure I shared Jessica's optimism, but the point was moot now._

_"I guess it really doesn't matter anymore. I've got to run."_

The sound of my phone ringing startles me back into the present.

"This is Bella Swan."

"Hey Bella, do you have a few?" Kitty asks.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I need to run some stuff to the downstairs lab. Is there any way you could watch my patient?"

"Can't the NST run it down?"

"He's busy, and I need to explain these cultures to the lab tech."

I glance at my watch; there's enough time before I need to send the census report to Admissions.

"Sure. I'll be right in."

Kitty is watching one of my favorite patients, a four-year-old named Sophie. The poor thing has an autoimmune disease called dermatomyositis; her immune system attacks her muscles, making her extremely weak. She's what we call a Frequent Flyer in the PICU—kids who have chronic diseases that ensure they'll have ongoing ICU stays throughout their childhood. She recently had a slew of her internal organs removed because they were so inflamed she was in constant pain. The healing process for autoimmune patients can be unbearably long, however, and Sophie has been with us for over a week. We can't seem to get a grip on her pain.

Pain can be kind of an enigma. Some health care professionals refer to it as the sixth vital sign. As nurses, we are constantly assessing a patient's pain level. One of the reasons we're so obsessive about it is that research has shown that when pain is well controlled, patients heal more quickly.

The problem with that view, however, is that many doctors are rather stingy in prescribing pain meds for their patients. In fact, it can be a constant battle between doctors and nurses. In their training, doctors consider pain to be a neurologic response. They aren't wrong—it is, but it's also an emotional response, which makes it very subjective. Nurses treat it as part of the disease/healing process in addition to being neurologic. Therein lies a fundamental difference between the care doctors provide versus that of nurses.

Poor little Sophie is presently caught in a pain cycle. If you don't treat pain early and swiftly, it continues to ramp up, and you end up chasing the pain in an attempt to get it under control. In essence, the worse your pain becomes, the harder it is to control. We always try to be very proactive in treating pain, but sometimes it doesn't work. We've been trying desperately to help Sophie find her happy spot, but we've only been marginally successful.

Sophie's been having trouble sleeping this week, so I've been called upon to read to her, or watch her favorite princess videos. From the information Kitty gave me, I know that she can't have any more pain meds for another hour, so I decide to use a distraction technique to keep her pain at bay.

"We have _Snow White_, _The Aristocats_, or _Beauty and the Beast_. What'll it be, kiddo?"

"_Snow White_."

"Are you sure? That queen is pretty scary."

Sophie is on some strong pain medications, which can cause hallucinations. The Evil Queen could be wicked intense. She crosses her arms and huffs at my question.

"I know dat, Bewwa. I wanna see it."

I hold back my laughter at her response. Her speech impediment always makes me think of the wedding in _The Princess Bride_: "Mawwiage."

"Okay, then, Missy. Here you go."

"But my name is Sophie."

"I know, sweets. I was just kidding with you."

I sit down next to her bed, holding her hand as we watch. I understand the importance of _Snow White_ for its groundbreaking innovations in the animation industry, but I've always hated the movie. The dwarves disturb me, and Snow White is just so… prim and proper. I don't trust anyone who's that happy, regardless of the fact that she's just a cartoon.

"I hate Snow White. She reawwy bodders me." Sophie's proclamation startles me; it's almost like she was reading my mind

"Because of how she acts, or because of who she is?"

"Bofe. She's disturbing." Dang, she _is_ reading my mind!

_I'll tell you what's really disturbing, Sweet Pea. It's Snow White hanging out with seven old dwarves…_

My thoughts are interrupted by Jasper.

"Swan, I need your help."

I turn to look at Sophie. "I need to talk to Jasper, all right Soph? Miss Kitty will be back any minute. I'll just be standing right in the doorway."

She looks at me with some concern, but then grabs her blankie for comfort. "I'ww be awwright," she tells me with a sigh.

For a moment, it kills me that a four year-old has to be so brave and bear so much. If I stop and ponder the matter, I'll be in trouble. I've let myself get too attached to Sophie over the years. I recognize the warning signs. I need to step back, or I will be crushed when she leaves us permanently. There's no question that she will, because of her illness, it's just a matter of how long we'll get to enjoy her while she's here. I take a deep breath to let go of the thought, and turn to focus on Jasper.

"What's up, Jazz?"

"Cope gave me the post-op erection kid."

He's referring to a 15 year-old who had spinal surgery to remove a tumor. In the OR, they nicked a nerve near his spinal cord, and it left the kid with a raging erection. If it doesn't self-resolve within four hours, he'll need to go back to the OR to have his penis drained of blood. Every male on the floor is acutely aware of this poor guy's situation.

"You're complaining to me about your assignment?"

"No, of course not. It's just that I'm in the room next to the staff bathroom."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" I ask, impatiently.

Jasper's face already looks apologetic. This can't be good.

"Bella, I swear to god, the resident smells like shit tonight."

"I _so _do not have time for your poop conspiracies right now, Jasper Whitlock."

"No, I mean he literally smells like crap."

"I still don't have time. Deal with it."

"Uh, he clogged the toilet."

"He fucking _what_?"

"He clogged the toilet. It overflowed."

I look up at the ceiling and sigh deeply. "Please tell me this is an April Fool's joke or something."

"It's the middle of July, Swan."

"I know, dammit. Did you tell the NST?"

"He's on his break."

"Perfect. Fine, I'll page environmental services. Can you hang a sign on the door?"

_Fuck my life, if this is the kind of shift I'm going to have._

A thought occurs to me, and I start to snicker. I can't help it, and the snicker turns into outright gigglesnorts. Jasper looks at me as though I've lost it. In between gasps, I choke out, "Oh my god, Whitlock—the shit has literally hit the fan."

We giggle uncontrollably together for a few moments then gather our wits. We're back in PICU mode before anything serious happens.

_Yep, this is definitely one of those nights._

**~XxX~**

Ten hours later, I'm walking in the front door of Edward's loft—no, wait… _our_ loft—and I'm so tired all I want is to collapse into bed. It was a grueling, shitty night. Literally. I start to giggle to myself for no reason whatsoever, which is how I know that I'm exhausted. I don't want to delay getting into bed by an additional second if I can help it.

As usual, Edward was absolutely right about our living together. The fatigue, the grueling patients, the stress of work, are all washed away when we're finally alone in our loft. Every kiss melts my sadness, every touch eases the weariness in my bones. He's my happy place, and I never before realized how badly I needed one.

We started a routine the first time we arrived home following a shift. It's simple, really, but the most effective stress relief I've ever found—we shower together. There's something about naked bodies moving together in the warm wetness that is so relaxing. It's so much more than just sex. When Edward washes my hair, my body, the intimacy is perfect. He treats me with such care and love, it's as if I can feel it pouring off of his body onto mine. Plus, there's the added bonus of getting to see Edward all wet. I'm not sure if there is anything more appealing on this planet than a wet Edward Cullen.

I make my way to the bathroom, where I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face. I notice a wet sensation between my legs, but it isn't a pleasant "Oh, Edward must be within 5 miles of me" type of wetness, it is a "Fuck, I'm pretty sure that's my period" sensation. I go to the bathroom and confirm it's a bad wetness, not a good wetness. I don't need to hassle with this right now, dammit!

I realize that, in my busyness, I left my Diva Cup in too long, and it's starting to leak. I sigh deeply and grab a spare. I make quick work of changing it out and washing up. The good news about wearing scrubs is that blood washes right out of them. I hang up my washcloth to dry, then make my way to Edward's bed. I stop and correct myself, again. _Our_ bed. The thought puts a grin on my face.

Edward Cullen—and I—own the most comfortable bed in the world. It is a king-sized, TempurPedic mattress with the softest sheets and an incredible down duvet. It would be criminal to wear any sort of clothing in this bed. Every time I sneak under the covers, my skin is happy. The feeling is sublime. But that isn't even the best part—the bed also comes equipped with the best body pillow I've ever had: Dr. Edward Cullen himself.

For some reason, the minute I snuggle into his warm body, the last thing I have on my mind is sleep.

_No wonder I've been so fucking tired lately. I can't keep my hands off my own pillow._

I grin at myself again, because really, if Edward Cullen is in your bed, you really don't want to waste any time on sleep. It's not like I can help it, after all. I'm a warm-blooded, sexually active American girl.

_Very sexually active, thank you very much._

I give in to my senses, and slowly slide down Edward's body.

**EPOV**

I feel the sensation before my sleeping mind can process exactly what's happening.

_Warm._

_Wet. _

_Fuck._

I open my eyes to see one of my favorite sights in the world—Bella Swan, with her lips wrapped around my cock.

_Good morning._

There's nothing quite like being awakened from a deep sleep by a morning BJ. I ask myself this numerous times a day: Could I possibly love this woman more than I already do? The answer is always the same.

_No fucking way._

It's not just that I love to be awakened with a blowjob, it's that Bella treats my cock like a precious gem. You can tell how much she loves holding it, stroking it, sucking it.

_Oh my fucking god, how she's sucking it!_

Once I'm fully awake, my hands are instantly wrapped in her hair. The minute she feels my touch, her beautiful eyes look up at me.

_Oh yeah, just got harder._

She starts to moan around my cock, and there are no words to describe how fucking amazing it feels. When you're already in heaven, and everything is perfect, what can you possibly say when, suddenly, everything becomes _more_ perfect? See? No words.

I'm gone about 30 seconds after her moan. She swallows everything I give her, just like she always does. It's still so amazing to me that we're perfectly compatible sexually. With other women, once the novelty of a new partner wears off, it seemed like their interest in having sex waned. Bella? Swear to god, she'll willingly give me any orifice on her body. Not only that, but she'll give it to me several times a day.

_Have I mentioned how much I love this woman?_

Bella Swan is a goddess, and she is worshipped by every cell in my body. It's time for me to show her exactly how much I worship her. I pull her on top of me and her body tells me good morning. My body tells her, "Thank you so fucking much for the beej. My cock will be happy for hours."

I turn her over, fully intending to explain with my body what a great morning it is. My lips continue the conversation with hers while my hands drift down and give her barbells a little tweak. She lets a gasp escape and I can't hide the smile on my face. She slaps my ass in retaliation. I use that as my cue to move the train southbound.

I spread her legs widely and carefully part her lower lips. Her pussy is the perfect shade of pink and so incredibly beautiful. It's like the universe knew that such a beautiful goddess deserves an equally sublime pussy. She's already soaking wet and her clit is waiting for me. If I'm not mistaken, it may have even given me a wink just now.

_Hell fucking yes._

I slide my fingertip over her slit as I marvel at the wonder that is female genitalia. Everything about it invites me in. Her smell, her taste, her color—I crave it. Jesus, I'm done savoring the view. I need her right now.

I start outside and work my way in. I love her bare pussy; it conveniently allows me to explore every nook and cranny. I pay attention to the skin along the fold of her thighs, the part that gets hidden every time she stands up. It's highly sensitive, and most guys have no clue how much of a turn on that area can be. When I get done licking her there, I blow over her, and watch her skin react to the change in temperature. Her gasp lets me know I'm on the right track.

I move on to the first crease in her pussy, the labia majora. Ever so gently, I nibble along the outer lip, from bottom to top. I slip my tongue around the hood of her clit, but never touch her where she wants me the most, and proceed to give the other side equal attention.

I go to her inner lips, sucking them into my mouth. With my lips covering my teeth, I bite down. It's soft, but there's still pressure, and my reward is an involuntary buck of her hips. I can taste her even more, now that I'm so close to her opening, and it makes my brain go haywire. I can't taste her even a little without wanting more. My tongue goes straight to the source, and before I know it, I'm lapping her up.

From the moment I awakened until now, we still haven't uttered a word out loud to one another. I'm amused by the fact that we don't need any words here, but we're still having a conversation nonetheless. This must be what it's like when you've found the person who was destined for you.

I can't stand to leave her clit alone anymore, so I dive right in. First I kiss it, then I use the tip of my tongue to circle around it. Then, and only then, I go in for the kill. I suck her clit into my mouth with as much force as possible, and then I bite down, gently.

"FUCK!"

_That's what I'm talking about._

Okay, so I guess we do need a few words. I'm incredibly amused that the words we typically use are expletives; so far, our conversation this morning has been wordless or curse words. That's fine by me, because I still know exactly what's going down.

I start to thrust my finger into her pussy, when I feel her Diva Cup.

_Damn, forgot about her period._

I remove my finger, and return my attention to her clit; no G-spot today, I guess. To make up for it, I suck, and bite, and lick her clit. I work her like she's never going to have a mouth on her pussy again—I'm giving her the full Cullenlingus treatment. It isn't long before she explodes, squeezing my head between her thighs, pulling my hair, and gasping. Seeing her come undone in front of me like this is my privilege alone—if I have my way, no one else will ever look at her this way again. Swan's pussy is all mine.

I pull the covers over our bodies and snuggle into her. I know she's probably exhausted with all that's been going on since Mallory OD'd, so I want to make sure she'll get some sleep.

"Do you need your earplugs, love?" I ask, kissing her forehead.

"Mmmm," she replies.

I hand a pair over to her. She puts them in without even opening her eyes. She's snoring by the time she tucks her hands under her pillow, which happens to be me. Not that I'm complaining.

I don't have to work until tonight, so I have time to lounge in bed with her. I fall asleep for a while, which is good, because we're both needing any extra sleep we can get.

**~XxX~**

I realize that when I asked Bella to live with me, it was very spontaneous. After what we've been through the last week, I want to make sure she knows how serious I am about her. Moving in with me is just one more step toward being together for the rest of our lives, and she needs to understand that.

I run around to each room, place a red tube in plain sight wherever I go. I need it to be ready when Bella wakes up.

When I reach the bedroom, I stop to watch Bella sleep for a few more minutes. She's at her most beautiful when she comes, but sleeping is a close second. She always looks so calm and peaceful, things that are so rare in her life in the waking world. As long as she always has a place where she can be calm and peaceful every day, I will be happy. Assuming that I'm there to enjoy it with her, of course.

I get down on one knee, so that my face is right in front of hers. I bend over and deliver my usual wake up call: A kiss to her forehead first, followed by gentle words to wake her up, and finish with a kiss to the lips. It makes me feel like Prince Charming every time I get to do this.

Her eyes flutter open in response, and she stretches out her naked form. I feel her arms wrap around me in a big hug, and she sighs contentedly in my ear.

"I love my Edward Cullen alarm clock. Best clock ever."

"I've never had anyone to wake up before, but I can promise you that I will be the best alarm clock I can be for as long as you'll allow me the honor."

I pull away from her, ready to begin.

Extending a tube of chapstick from my fingers, I begin. "I promise to provide a tube of chapstick in every room, as long as we both shall live. Together. I can't live without you anymore."

"You silly twit, I already said yes last week!"

_If only she would say yes to the big question… give her time, Cullen. She needs to be eased into this._

"I know, but I wanted to make it official. If you go around the house, you will see your red chapstick tubes in every room."

"You mean you were serious? You really did leave chapstick for me, everywhere?"

"You can prove it to yourself, baby. It's all there."

"Okay, let's go on a chapstick expedition. We also need to get busy christening every surface in this flat, so that it's truly _our_ place."

I'm so moved that I can't speak; I know my voice would fail me if I tried. I pull her into me, clinging to her. My body feels as heavy as lead and as light as gossamer all at once. The immense importance of this moment is not lost on me.

She pulls away from me slightly, so I can see her face. "But first, I need coffee, and I need Aleve. You know that I'm no good unless I'm caffeinated and medicated. Just saying."

"I beg to differ, Swan. You were _very_ good earlier; that blowjob wake up call was superb. Just saying."

She punches me in the shoulder and pulls me toward the kitchen.

**~XxX~**

As I'm sipping my coffee, Bella is dancing with her ear buds in. She has five tubes of cherry chapstick in her hands and is singing to the playlist I made for her. She's on Depeche Mode's _Personal Jesus._ She's shaking her ass around, oblivious to the effect that it has on me. When she turns around and catches me spying on her, she makes her way over to me. With a sly smirk on her face, she reaches out and starts stroking my cock. How she could tell I was hard I have no idea; it must be like a sixth sense to her. I'm certainly not going to complain about it. I slip my hand over hers, and we stroke my cock in unison. I'm putty in her hands the minute her fingertips come into contact with the surface of my skin, no matter where it is on my body.

She sings to me, "I want my own, personal, penis. Someone to hear my prayers, someone who cares…"

_Like this penis will ever belong to anyone else again. Can she not see that?_

I pull one of her earbuds out. "Your personal penis is right here, Swan."

She giggles and jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my hips. "Dr. Edward…" she hesitates.

"What?"

"I don't even know your middle name," she pouts, adorably.

"It's Anthony."

"Dr. Edward Anthony Cullen, you are my happy place."

"Isabella Marie Swan…"

"How did you know mine?" she interrupts.

"Doesn't matter," I don't elaborate, or she might get creeped out to know I looked it up online when we were students. "Isabella Marie Swan, you are my happy place. This is why we needed to live together. No matter what happens, if I come home to my happy place, I'll always be fine."

"I love you, Dr. Cullen."

"And I love you, Nurse Swan."

She gives me a very sweet, loving kiss, on the chaste side. None of her tasty little tongue. The level of intensity of her kiss hardly matters, however, because she happens to have her pussy poised right over the cock she was stroking moments ago, and he is assessing the situation very closely.

"Um, Edward, we have to go to work," she states, her lips still on mine.

"My cock is holding you to the promises your body made earlier."

She groans into my mouth. "Please, please tell me you did not just quote a Scorpions song."

"I did not just quote you a Scorpions song."

"You _so_ did."

"Well, you told me to say I didn't," I smirk at her. For added measure, I pull out the crimples.

"Oh, Cullen, you are pure evil, using the crimples to get you out of this!"

"Evil, yes, but still highly effective. The crimples success rate is close to 99.9%. And meanwhile, your personal penis awaits, just so you know."

She makes a little growling noise that is supposed to sound threatening, I think, but it just turns her into my angry little kitten. I _love_ the angry kitten. She thinks she's so fierce.

She places her mouth over my ear and whispers, "You have five minutes, buddy, so get a move on it."

_I fucking love this woman._

**~XxX~**

**BPOV**

I'm still tired, despite having enough caffeine flowing in my veins to power a small city. I'm awake, but I'm missing a level of sharpness and focus. The minute my patient arrives from the ER, however, I know my adrenaline will kick in, and I'll be able to get things done.

My patient tonight is a victim of head trauma. She and her family were getting ready to ride their bikes, when my patient realized that she forgot something in the garage. They didn't have the kind of garage door that would automatically stop when something was in its way, and it somehow closed over her head. Thank god she was wearing her bike helmet, otherwise she would never have made it past the garage door.

Head trauma is its own special brand of trouble. There is the initial insult, like a cracked skull, that does damage. No matter what the initial insult is, however, there is always secondary damage. If you hit your head during a fall, for example, and end up with a subdural hematoma, that injures your brain. The secondary effect of the hematoma causes your brain to swell, which can cut off blood supply and cause permanent brain damage, or even death.

Your prognosis improves or worsens based on a variety of factors, such as skull fractures, intracranial bleeding, and most importantly, intracranial pressure, or ICP. My girl has a closed skull fracture, meaning the broken bones aren't protruding through the skin. One might think that's a good thing, but it isn't. That's because her brain has started to swell. The more it swells, the higher the likelihood that brain tissue will be damaged due to lack of oxygen. We do all kinds of things to control ICP in order to save the brain, such as giving a patient steroids, or hypertonic saline solutions. My patient is coming straight from the ER, and neurosurgery is going to assess her once she gets here.

About five minutes after the ER called me to give report, Dr. Rosalie Hale, neurosurgeon extraordinaire, shows up. She is beautiful, brilliant, cold as ice and tough as nails. I've cried at work _once_, and it wasn't due to losing a patient; it was because of Dr. Hale.

Dr. Emmett McCarty has been chasing Dr. Hale for as long as I've known him. I can't believe he hasn't given up already, but the man is very tenacious by nature. Alice tells me a rumor, that McCarty has been bonking Hale for years, and I can't even imagine that it's true. She's just so cold… and mean. She might be perfect, but who would want to fuck her? She's like a praying mantis: She'll just tear you up and spit you out after she has her wicked way with you.

The neurosurgery group always moves in a herd; they certainly exhibit a herd mentality. Before the Nerd Herd moves from bedside to bedside for their morning rounds, however, the residents come by to check on the patient, so they can report back to the group. I always try to give the doctors from each specialty a rundown of systems based upon their expertise. For the neurosurgeons, for example, I focus on neurologic responses. Because I give good reports, I've caught the residents giving the Herd a report using my words, verbatim, on numerous occasions. It's a mistake the residents don't make more than once if they want to survive their neurosurgery rotation with Dr. Hale. I have more memories than I care to remember of her ripping a resident a new one because she busted them for rehashing my report:

_If I wanted to know what the nurse reported, I would have asked her. You're going to need to come to better conclusions than that, I assure you._

As if dealing with Dr. Hale and the Nerd Herd isn't bad enough, it only makes matters worse that Dr. James McCullough works alongside Rosalie Hale. Since I work nights, I rarely have the displeasure of running into him, which is fine by me. It only serves to bring back unpleasant memories that I'd much rather keep repressed.

Tonight, however, we're graced by the presence of my two least favorite doctors on the planet because of my incredibly unstable head trauma patient. Not only are they my two least favorite docs, but also they both have an ego the size of Texas, and are constantly trying to outdo each other. There simply isn't enough free airspace in the PICU to entertain both of these docs at the same time. I'm tempted to throw my urologic ruler at them, but then I remember that Dr. Hale doesn't have a penis. She certainly does have a pair of balls, though; probably several, since her favorite pastime is removing balls from the residents who serve under her.

When the patient arrives, both Hale and McCullough swarm over the patient.

"Please let us get her transferred onto a regular bed first!" I hiss. It's the only language neurosurgery understands—hisses.

Naturally, neither one listens to me. I can't even get her hooked up to the monitor, because there are so many people at the bedside. I take a deep breath before I speak.

"Anyone who is not directly involved with getting the patient settled, step away from the bed. Now!"

Most everyone puts their hands up in the air and steps back. Most everyone except McCullough, of course. Par for the course with that asshole.

"McCullough, step back," I hear Edward warn.

_Oh, shit. We haven't seen McCullough since I told Edward about our history. This could be bad._

He looks over at Edward, as though he just handed him a shit sandwich.

"I'm assessing the critically ill patient, Cullen! Per your request, I might add!"

"But you can't do that until the patient is on a bed and stable. So please, step back and let the nurses do their work."

McCullough gives him a look of ire, but does as he's told. Edward is going to hear about this—Fellows _never_ tell Attendings what to do. Especially neurosurgeons.

_Fuck. This is not good._

I try to catch Edward's eyes so I can instruct him to behave himself, but he's just glaring at McCullough, watching his every move.

Just as he's leaning over the patient, James' pager goes off. "Fuck!" He exclaims, looking at the page.

"Hale, I have to get this page. There's another one in the ER to deal with. I need you to take over here."

She nods, saying nothing. They switch places, and McCullough leaves, walking briskly.

Dr. Hale continues the silent treatment as she assesses the patient, which is fine by me; the fewer words she utters, the better.

"We'll need CNS checks every 15 minutes. Watch those pupils carefully. They are equal right now, but the right one is on the sluggish side. Her breathing is fine, but she may decompensate overnight. You'll need to page us immediately if there are any neuro changes. Do you understand?"

She looks at me like she's been explaining this to a kindergartener, and she's probably gone over my head.

_Whatever. I can fucking deal with head trauma, Hale._

"Yes, I know what to do when a patient has head trauma. What pager number are you using tonight?"

She reads it off to me, then gives me McCullough's just in case. I roll my eyes inside, knowing that if I have to page him in the middle of the night, I will get an earful. As she is on her way out the door, she pauses for a moment.

"By the way, Swan? If you don't want your half-baked, knee jerk opinions known to the world, you shouldn't write a blog."

_What the hell?_

"How did you—did McCarty tell you?"

She gives me a sneer as she responds, "Who do you think told McCarty in the first place?"

"_You_ started this?"

"You aren't a doctor, you're nothing more than a nurse who thinks she knows more than highly trained physicians. You made the wrong choice by taking on the blog. Someone had to set the record straight."

"But…_why_? What did I ever do to you?"

"What makes you think this is personal? If it were, I would need to have a vested interest in you, and I don't. Something wasn't right; it needed to be fixed, so I did what I had to do. Pure and simple."

With that, Dr. Rosalie Hale turns around, leaving me in her dust.

Aside from feeling as though I was just slapped in the face, I have one big, unanswered question: _Why the hell is Rosalie Hale giving private messages to Emmett McCarty?_

**~XxX~**

**END NOTES: Thank you to 1918EC for the idea to "christen every surface" in Edward's loft. **

**"Personal penis" and hiding chapstick in every room are also reader ideas, but I cannot remember who gave them to me. If it was you, please let me know so I can give credit where credit is due. Thanks!**

**"I'm no good unless I'm caffeinated and medicated" is for MsKathy and Twilight Mundi.**


	29. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Wow, there was some widespread confusion regarding Rosalie and Bella's tete-a-tete in the last chapter; thank you to everyone who let me know that they were confused. The significance behind their exchange is explained in this chapter. For future reference, Edward talks about the blog at the end of Chapter 2, and at the beginning of Chapter 4.**

**Things I own: 3 dozen homemade digestive biccies and 4 dozen homemade Hob Nobs. Just in case Rob decides to stop in for a spot of tea. One can never be too prepared.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who reads my chapters even when it is heartfail. ILY, bb. Thanks to my grammar beta Lupin4Tonks, who spit shines everything to a lovely sheen. Ladyeire72 and MyCrookedSmile deserve thanks for pre-reading to make sure I was clear this time. I love you all. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD**

I look over at Edward, whose mouth is agape.

"Did she just say what I think she said?" he asks.

My response is subdued. "Yeah."

Dr. Rosalie Hale just told me that not only did she find out about my blog, but also that she is the one responsible for telling everyone about it. Ultimately, she told McCarty, McCarty told Edward, and invariably, she's behind Carlisle finding out, too. All the embarrassment I felt when Edward told me that he read my blog just came flooding back into my brain; I can feel my cheeks flush in response.

What is probably the worst part is that she admitted doing it not because she had a personal vendetta against me; she just wanted to put me in my place. She's from the school of thought that nurses are to do as they are told, not to use any independent judgment in patient care. She wants me to kowtow to all the doctors with whom I work, because, at the end of the day, I'm a stupid nurse, and she is a skilled, neurosurgeon.

From Dr. Hale's perspective, my problem is that I'm nothing more than a nurse aspiring to be something I'm not. From my perspective, she's just another arrogant neurosurgeon who's on a power trip.

_Dr. Rosalie Hale is a fucking bitch. I hate that woman, I really hate her. _

I'm trying valiantly to fight back my tears. I refuse to allow her to tear me down. Underneath it all, I am a good nurse, and I believe in the wisdom of my clinical judgment. Dr. Rosalie Hale can go fuck herself on the broomstick she rode in on for all I care.

The next thought that pops into my head catches me by surprise—I get a hunch that Dr. Hale must be sleeping with Dr. McCarty. Why would she have told him otherwise? It makes me more than a little sick to my stomach to think that discussing my blog might have been part of their pillow talk. I'm more than a little pissed at McCarty for being so stupid as to buy into her charms. She's just an ice queen in my book, but he must have his reasons. Well, aside from the fact that she has a spectacular pair of tits. I'm certain they aren't real.

My musings on exactly how evil Hale is have to wait, however; we have a critically ill patient to tend to.

The rest of the staff who came to help get the patient settled have all left the room, so it's just Edward and me at the bedside.

"I'm really worried about that right eye," he explains.

"Me, too. I'll watch it closely, though. Don't worry."

He chuckles without humor. "I'm not worried about you, Swan, I'm worried about the patient. It's normal for a doc to do that, you know."

I look at him, wondering where this tone is coming from. I've had just about all my tired brain can handle for one shift—I don't need Edward compounding anything here.

"I know that, Cullen, and I know that you are also incredibly committed to your patients. I'm just a little testy because I feel like everyone's been second guessing my nursing skills tonight, dammit!"

"I'm not!"

"Well, it sure sounds like you are!"

I watch Edward take a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head and lets loose a deep sigh. "Just keep me informed on how things are going. I'll be in the dictation room."

"You know I will," I say to his back as he leaves the room.

I'm so pissed off right now, I need to breathe deeply to control myself. There is very little that gets to me in this job, but when someone questions my intelligence, or my nursing skills, they might as well punch me in the stomach. I just had three doctors—_three!_—call me out for my nursing judgment, and I'm way past the limits in my toleration. One more tonight, and I will crack, swear to god.

_They wouldn't have assigned me a serious head trauma case if they didn't think I could handle it!_

I'm so tired, I'm getting emo, and I can feel a tear start to prick in my eyes. This is the second time in a matter of minutes, and that alone is pissing me off; I _hate_ crying.

_I WILL NOT cry, I WILL NOT cry, I WILL NOT cry…_

Maybe if I chant that enough, I'll start to believe it.

I sit down at the computer near my patient's bedside and begin to chart my assessment. I want it in the computer as quickly as possible, so everyone will be up to speed when they look at her electronic chart. As I'm charting her vital signs, I notice that her heart rate is starting to slow down. With each of her last four blood pressure measurements, the pulse pressure, or the difference between the top and the bottom reading, has widened, and her pressure is starting to get too high overall. The increases are subtle, but I get a bad feeling about it. It's not bad enough yet for me to page neurosurgery, but it is strong enough to raise my heckles.

_Cushing's Triad. _

Patients who have head trauma, a neurosurgical procedure, or a change in level of consciousness—for any reason—can easily slip into what's known as Cushing's Triad. It's a combination of three vital signs that show a patient's intracranial pressure (ICP) is climbing to dangerous levels. If the warning signs are left untreated, a person will likely die. The three hallmark signs of the triad are a slow heart rate, a widening pulse pressure with high blood pressure, and a change in respirations. Their breathing will slow down and become irregular, which often happens when a patient is near death.

My little patient appears to be starting to head down that path, and I'm worried. I page Edward, the resident, and the neurosurgeon; I'm not sure if I'd rather have Hale or McCullough handling this as the shit hits the fan. They're both equally bad to put up with, regardless of their skill as neurosurgeons.

As luck would have it, McCullough is the first one to answer the page.

_Lovely._

"This is McCullough. What?" He sounds annoyed and tired. Great combo, right there. I grimace internally.

"You need to come look at the head trauma kid—I'm pretty sure we have Cushing's Triad going on."

"How wide are his pulse pressures?"

"It isn't that pressures are widening dramatically, it's just that it's starting to trend that way, and her heart rate has been slowing down. Her blood pressures are starting to increase."

"What does 'slowing down' mean?"

I sigh in frustration. "It means that she has drifted from the low hundreds to the eighties. Her systolic is in the 140s."

"How old is he again?"

"SHE," I clarify. "SHE is nine."

"Eighties for a nine year-old is unremarkable," he scoffs. "And I'm unimpressed by the systolic pressure. How long has it been going on?"

"About 30 minutes."

Edward and the resident walk into the room. I put the call on speaker so we can all hear it, and thus be on the same page.

"Wait a second—you page me at 2 AM and she's been trending for only 30 minutes? Jesus, did you leave your brain at home tonight?"

Edward opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it when I hold up a finger in his direction to quiet him.

I clear my throat to gather my wits. "Excuse me, but I've been a nurse in the Peds ICU for longer than you've been a doctor. I've seen Cushing's plenty of times, McCullough—often enough to sense when it is about to happen. The trend is clearly starting. I know if any other PICU nurse gave you this same story, you'd be all over it. I just know where this is going, and the earlier we can intervene, the better."

"Call me if it truly becomes a problem, then we can talk. I don't assess patients at 2 AM based on a nurse's hunches. I don't want to hear from you unless the kid herniates."

"If she herniates, it will be too late to save her!" I hear Edward chime in.

_Goddamn it, Cullen, don't let him get to you. This isn't your fight. _

"She isn't going to fucking herniate," he says with exasperation. He continues, as if I'm the only one in the room. He knows full well that I'm not. "There is nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours over. Leave the thinking to those of us with the big brains. I wouldn't want you to accidentally sprain something."

I'm livid. I hang up the phone, and I'm so angry that I'm shaking. James knows that this patient is at risk for Cushing's. My hunch is valid and sound. That asshole knows exactly how to push my buttons, and it makes me furious. I fucking _hate _being out of control_._ On top of that, I'm pissed off with Edward for trying to play the knight in shining armor. I can fight my own fucking battles with McCullough; I don't need to turn this into a pissing contest, for Christ's sake.

The only good news from this scenario is that with Edward here, we can intervene on behalf of the patient, even if McCullough refuses.

"First of all, what the hell did he say?"

"Not now, Edward; you heard all that you needed to hear. The patient is slipping into Cushing's, I just know it."

"Tell me what you've got."

"Her heart rate was in the low hundreds and has drifted to the eighties. Her pulse pressures are widening, and her systolic is in the 140s. Her breathing rate is decreasing. It's all subtle, but it's there. I know it."

"Have you checked her pupils recently?"

"Still equal, but sluggish."

"Okay, for now, put the bed at 30 degrees to help decrease the ICP. Get some hypertonic saline ready at the bedside, just in case."

I quickly fix the bed according to Edward's orders, then grab the saline. I have a feeling we're going to need it, so I spike the bag and get it ready to infuse. When you're in a rush, as you nearly always are if you need to infuse a hypertonic solution, it's best to have everything ready to go, to gain precious seconds that can save a life.

"Let's get the intubation cart in here, in case we need it emergently. It's the best way to keep her stable."

Before I even know who's responsible, the cart is here, as are a few more bodies.

_I fucking love my colleagues. They always know just what I need, just when I need it._

"By the way, how long has it been since you've done a Glasgow?"

Edward's referring to the Glasgow Coma Scale; it allows us to quickly assess the severity of trauma to the brain based upon patient responses to stimuli.

"I did one before I paged you guys. She only opens her eyes to severe pain, she moans in response to stimulation, and she withdraws to pain. I rated her at 8."

At a score of eight or less, the patient is in imminent danger of respiratory failure.

"Shit. Why didn't you tell me that first? We need to intubate before she decompensates. Open the cart, we're going to do a rapid sequence intubation. I need a dose of fentanyl and versed, along with vecuronium."

Edward's criticism of my judgment stabs me like a knife to the heart, but I have no time to dwell on it.

The charge nurse is quickly drawing up meds for us as Edward grabs the appropriate size breathing tube and laryngoscope from the cart. We give the patient fentanyl for pain and versed to make her unaware of what's happening. We give these meds first, because intubation is not a comfortable procedure. Vecuronium is a paralytic that will keep her from moving while she is being intubated. It will also help to keep her ICP from increasing during a stressful procedure.

I open the endotracheal tube for Edward; I hold on to the tube on the outside of the packaging to keep it sterile. I watch his skillful hands slide the laryngoscope into place; it holds the back of the tongue out of the way, and allows him to visualize the trachea and larynx, where the breathing tube needs to be inserted. He gets it right where he wants it, and asks me for the tube. I hold it out for him, making sure it is still sterile, and he grabs it deftly from me. He makes this process look so easy, when I know the exact opposite is true. It can sometimes take two or three attempts, but with Edward? It's always the first time. The man has some amazingly skilled hands. It's all I can do to keep from ogling them during such a tense moment.

In a matter of seconds, the respiratory therapist uses tape to affix the breathing tube to the patient's cheeks, so it will stay in place, and hooks our girl up to the ventilator. One less thing to worry about for our sick, sick girl.

Once all the hard work is done, McCullough appears, as though by magic, through the door.

The minute Edward spots him, I see his body stiffen.

"You decided to intubate?" he says, with a taunting tone. "It's not often that my talents are rendered unnecessary."

"Yeah, her GCS is 8. Protocol says anything eight or less, intubate as a precaution."

"And you're basing your decision on the nurse who just has a _hunch_ that this is Cushing's?" He puts a dramatic emphasis on the word hunch, as if that will prove my incompetence.

"No, I'm basing it on the vital signs and our assessment of the patient. If we waited until you got here, it might have been too late."

"There's no need to be melodramatic, Cullen. The patient is fine."

"Not according to the monitor, she's not," Edward counters. "She needs to get a ventric in place to measure her ICP."

James looks around the room in dramatic fashion. "Oh, _you're_ the neurosurgeon now, are you?" He nods at the name embroidered in red on Edward's jacket. "Wait a minute, that clearly says 'PICU Fellow.'"

"Every minute you argue about my incompetence and overreaching is a second this patient doesn't have. Now, if you need me to page another neurosurgeon, I'm happy to do that. If you need me to get Carlisle Cullen here in the middle of the night, it will gladly be done. The choice is yours—treat the patient, or suffer the consequences of your choice."

James stands there for a moment, recovering from Edward's verbal slap. It only lasts for a brief second, then his smarminess returns in droves.

"It's sad, how you have to rely upon other people to fight your battles, you know?" he gives us a cheesy smirk. "All right, since your panties are in a bundle, get me the ventric equipment and a surgical kit, and we'll keep this girl from gorking out."

It's one thing to use gallows humor to keep yourself going on the night shift, among your colleagues. In front of a patient, however? Using such a derogatory tone, when she could be dying? I'm beyond disgusted. I can't believe I didn't see through his disguise when I met him. He can certainly turn the charm off and on when he feels like it.

James gets the ventric in place—I hate to admit that he's fucking good at what he does, but he really is—with Edward's assistance. Once I have the ICP set up on the monitor, we have a constant read on where our girl's pressures are. Typically, we have a protocol order in place to intervene if the pressure gets above a certain point. We'll usually give a bolus dose of mannitol or hypertonic saline, which affects osmosis. The fluid shift from the cells out to the hypertonic environment helps to lower pressures.

James is leaving the room when I hear Edward say, in a very soft, subtle tone, "McCullough—I need you in the hall. Now."

"Cullen, I really need you…" I start, in an attempt to keep him from doing what I know he is going to do.

"The resident can help you, Swan. I need to review the case with neurosurg."

I watch as Edward storms out into the hallway, James is barely out of the room before Edward lays into him. Everyone else quickly scatters back from whence they came, because it's clear the shit is going down.

_God-fucking-dammit, Cullen, don't!_

Although Edward has lowered his voice, I can still hear everything he's saying.

"I'm trying to figure out if you are just being a neurosurg asshat or if you really are this sloppy."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Refusing to come immediately to the bedside for a kid who is developing Cushing's Triad? Seriously? What, were we ruining your beauty sleep?"

"In my clinical judgment, the child was no more at risk for Cushing's than she had been when I first assessed her. It's my opinion that she was in no danger. "

"Your opinion is no good if the kid ends up dying! Even if there is a remote possibility that it was happening, the onus is you on to figure it out. If she herniated, it would be our fault. And you know what? She's someone's little girl. She had a tragic accident. At the very least, think of how many lives could be disrupted if she went south. She deserves a chance to be a kid, and then to grow up. If it was my kid? I'd want you to do everything for her. Do you even _care_?"

"Please spare me your histrionics. I've seen hundreds of these types of cases, more than you'll ever deal with in your life. A 9 year old with a heart rate in the 80s and pressures in the 140s doesn't make me lose any sleep."

"_You_ might not be losing sleep, but her family certainly is! What's the worst thing possible if you intervene early, hmm? You know that neurologically, it's the most prudent approach. I don't fucking care if it means you have to get out of bed. If you're paged by one of our nurses, you need to haul your ass over to the PICU. Got it?"

"You're trying to threaten _me_, Cullen? Are you that stupid?"

"The only idiot here is you. And believe me, if you refuse to follow up on the advice of our staff—any of our staff—you _will _go down."

"Well, Dr. Carlisle Cullen will hear about this little incident, of course. Straight from my mouth. You're messing with the wrong guy."

They stop talking, appearing to be at an impasse. I'm so anxious I feel like I have to throw up. I'm royally pissed at Edward for creating a scene; there were other ways this could have been handled, and we both know that McCullough's handling of the patient is only the tip of the iceberg in Edward's mind.

"Oh my god, you like her, don't you?" I hear James' snaky voice intone.

"Well, we're living together, yes."

"This doesn't have a fucking thing to do with that patient—you're just mad I dated her first!"

"Dated? Is that what you call it, McCullough? God, that's priceless," he chuckles without humor.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. It starts with a bar and an inebriated girl, then ends with an alley."

_God, I wish I could see their faces._

"She knew what she was doing. There's only one reason to go out back behind a bar."

"Are you sure about that?" he laughs again. "You're more of a fucking twat than I thought. Say one more denigrating comment to Swan and I will make an official complaint to the hospital board. Do you have any idea how unethical you were?"

"Well, it's my word against hers. No one will believe her."

"You don't think so? How about if the hospital's Medical Director backs me up on the accusation?"

"I told you before, don't you fucking threaten me. You'll regret it."

"It sounds to me like you're the one with the threats."

"Just you wait. When I get through with you, Cullen, even your successful, perfect daddy isn't going to be able to save your career. You're through at Seattle Children's."

I hear James stomping off down the hallway.

"Edward?" I call out from my room.

"Not now, Swan."

"Yes now, Cullen."

He lets out another deep, heavy sigh and walks into the room.

"How's the patient?"

"She's fine for the moment. Her pressures are down. The hypertonic saline helped. The ventric is draining off some of the excess fluid, so she's stabilizing. Her second steroid burst is due soon."

He glances over the patient, assessing her ventriculostomy, looking at the monitor. Dealing with everything in the room, apart from me.

I start out gently, to get him to listen to my reasoning. "You know that neurosurgeons are like hydras—cut off their head, and two more will appear in its place. You can try to get rid of McCullough, or even Hale, but someone equally as arrogant and unpleasant will take their place."

"I'll take that chance."

"There's no need. I put an Annoy-A-Tron in his pocket, and it's going to drive him absolutely nuts until he finds it."

"What the hell is an Annoy-A-Tron?"

"It's a little computer microchip that emits three different kinds of irritating noises. It's tiny, and hard to find, and is going to drive him to distraction until he figures out what it is."

"I have to admit, that is a pretty good trick."

"And it certainly is safer than threatening a colleague. Cullen, don't you dare jeopardize your career because you can't handle something from my past! Nothing you do is going to change what happened to me—it's all over now. I got over it, and you need to as well. You can't right a wrong retroactively; you know the world doesn't work like that!"

"Bella, the asshole essentially raped you, and he did it while taking your virginity. Nothing I can ever do will erase that from your past, but he needs to feel some kind of suffering for what he did to you!"

"Making him suffer is going to make it all better, is it? You know what? _I_ won't feel any better. Being as low and dirty as McCullough is doesn't make you a better person, it just makes you more like him. You _know_ that! You've always talked about wanting to live up to your father's example—in your career choice, as a PICU doctor, as a person. I can assure you, he would _never_ put himself in such a vulnerable position by denigrating a colleague."

Edward looks like I just slapped him, his face a mask of acute pain. I feel terrible for bringing Carlisle into the argument, but I can tell that he isn't going to let this go, and he needs to.

"Isabella Swan, my father would not sit idly by and let the woman he loves more than life itself be torn apart by one of his colleagues, that _I_ can assure _you_!"

I sigh deeply in extreme frustration. Edward Cullen is the most stubborn person in the universe, aside from me.

"But I'm fine, Edward! I've moved on! I have a job I love, with colleagues who are amazing, and the best man I've ever known at my side. Don't you see? I'm the one who has it all. James has nothing, and he never will. That's why he's so mean."

"It isn't right! He can't keep getting away with this stuff. Someone needs to hold him accountable! I mean, god knows who will be his next innocent victim. Do you want that to happen to another nursing student?"

"Look, if you can't let something like this go, then things aren't going to work for us in the long term. You can't fight my battles for me, and I don't want you to. I've survived on my own for nearly 30 years, and I am a perfectly capable individual. If you can't handle that concept, then you can't handle me. That's all there is to it. You need to think about this desire of yours to take care of me in that way, because I don't need it and I don't want it. Is that understood?

"Bella, you can't do this. Please, do not do this to us," he's begging me, and the tone of his voice kills me. "I can't stand it."

I decide impulsively what I need to do. It's the only way he'll understand.

"I'm going back to my old place after work, Edward. We need to talk about this after we've both had some time and distance."

I go back the patient's bedside and watch my little girl make it through the night, which is good. As good as we can expect with her injuries. The best part is that her ICPs have been under control, and I know we played a part in that. Her outlook is decidedly rosier than is mine.

**~xXx~**

I didn't sleep a fucking minute last night. I'm worried sick over Edward, and it feels wrong not to have him in my bed. Although it's very rare that something in my daily life causes me to cry, I spent several hours crying last night. I was already exhausted from all the fallout regarding Lauren Mallory; this certainly isn't helping.

We're getting a baby in from the ER with some kind of altered mental status. That is medical code for, "something's wrong with the brain, but we have no idea what it is." It could be a number of things, so the patient is being admitted for a spinal tap, an MRI, a central line, and cultures. The sooner we can find out exactly what's going on, the more likely we'll be able to save the child.

Naturally, Edward is going to be the one to perform the lumbar puncture, so I start getting the necessary supplies set up. My biggest job will be holding the patient still for him, so that there is minimal risk of damage to the spinal cord.

I know for certain that the baby is very sick, because he refuses to eat, his temperature is very high, and his hands and feet are cold and mottled. The cold extremities are a sign that the patient is clamped down—one of the ways the body preserves the most vital organs. When you get sick enough, your body saves the brain, the heart, and the lungs by sending the majority of its blood volume there.

There are a number of diagnoses that could apply to the patient right now, including, but not limited to, herpes that has infected the brain, meningitis, a head bleed, a brain tumor or mass, increased ammonia levels in the blood (due to liver dysfunction), encephalitis, or seizures. It's more likely to be a bug than the other issues, because of the high temperature and mottling. We'll need to get the kid started on all the procedures at once. I try to get everything ready that Edward might possibly need, so that we can get the process done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

As I'm getting the room set up, Edward comes flying in. He stops abruptly, looking at me. I can't help it; tears start to leak out of my eyes.

"Hey, Swan."

"Hey, Cullen," I reply, trying my best not to let my voice crack. "You look like shit."

He snorts in reply. "I was about to say the same thing to you."

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping very well."

"Me neither," he admits.

Simultaneously, we both blurt out: "I'm so sorry, Edward." "It's all my fault, Bella."

I giggle in my nervous state.

"We need to get ready for the patient, but can we take a break together afterwards? So we can talk?"

I nod at him. "Yes, I'd like that."

He rocks back and forth on his feet, running his fingers nervously through his hair. "Good. Good. Yes, good."

I giggle at him, because he is so adorably self-conscious.

As we stand there, awkwardly looking at each other, the patient is wheeled in on an ER gurney. We start get him settled into bed, and a bevy of my colleagues try to come into the room to assist.

Before they can enter, Edward shouts out: "Hey, people, this is a universal precautions room as of right now. We have no idea what this patient has. Please get your gowns, gloves, and face masks on."

Everyone does what they're told, and in no time, we're ready to roll. They leave as swiftly as they arrived, and it's just Edward and me once again.

We've been together like this, face to face, a countless number of times. I love the intimacy and precision of doing procedures. We have a lot to get done, so I have several sets of gloves and sterile equipment ready for him.

"Let's start with the central line, so we can send the cultures. After that, we can do the lumbar puncture, and finish with the urine specimen. Then we can get this kiddo to MRI."

When kids get a bug, we often do what we refer to as pan cultures. It essentially means we culture everything that is able to be cultured to see what organisms grow in the lab. Since we have no idea what's really wrong with this kid, he clearly needs to be pan cultured.

I watch as Edward inserts the IV catheter into the baby's internal jugular vein. It's a great location for a central line, because it's hard for the babies to reach and fiddle with. As his fingers get to work, he periodically asks me for an instrument, and I'm already prepared to go. I love that we can understand each other so implicitly, no words necessary. He is really a marvel to behold, because his procedures are so much more than just a technical task. He performs it as brilliantly as if he was playing a musical instrument. I never thought of procedures as an art form until I saw Edward Cullen in motion.

The baby is so ill he doesn't need to be sedated for these procedures. We did give him some fentanyl before starting, but he hasn't uttered a peep. That's not a very hopeful sign, sadly. We position him for the LP, on his side in the fetal position. I hold his little arms and legs still, even though he is as floppy as a rag doll. I talk softly to him while Edward does his thing. Even if he is unconscious, I still feel like I need to soothe him. I know I would want to be, if I were in his shoes.

What happens next cascades like a series of dominos falling perfectly in rapid succession. In my mind, however, everything unravels very slowly, as if I'm watching a slo-mo instant replay. I feel the patient start to tense up, so I lean in to hold him more securely. I have only enough time to eke out a quick warning to Edward, and the patient sneezes right in my face. In my hurry to prepare the room, I didn't get a face mask with a splash shield, because there were none in the cabinet. I meant to ask the NST to hunt a box down for me later, but that doesn't do me any good right now.

Edward is startled by my shout and the sudden movement. I'm doing my best to avoid contact from any follow-up sneezes, while Edward is just trying to keep the spinal fluid samples from overturning. Somehow, in the midst of all this, I end up with the needle used for the spinal tap poking out from my collarbone.

_Jesuschristshitdamnfuck_

There are no swearwords good enough for a situation in which you've been sneezed upon AND had an accidental needle stick. This is doubly true when the patient has an unknown, but clearly very bad, disease.

It is a perfect storm for healthcare worker exposure: I am tired, I wasn't wearing the right equipment, and the patient wasn't as sedated as we believed. All it takes is one small stick of a needle. I wasn't paying attention. I just exposed myself to whatever it is this patient has. I know that whatever it is isn't something good, and I feel my stomach drop.

"Bella? Are you all right?"

I yank the needle from my neck, and I lose control. All the sadness, the frustration, the stress of the past few weeks takes its toll. I just can't contain my feelings any more. I start to cry. No, I'm actually sobbing. The kind of hiccupping, let-it-all-hang-out tears, where you can't stop even if you want to.

His concern is written all over his face, and I have to be honest with him.

"No," I manage to gasp out in between sobs. "I'm not. I just got stuck with a used LP needle and sneezed on by the sickest kid in the PICU."

**END NOTE: Before you judge Bella, I need to emphasize that even the most careful of healthcare workers get accidental sticks. Yours truly has had two, one from a kid who had Hepatitis C. I was also coughed upon by a kid with a new trach—the loogie landed right in my eye. Fortunately, it all turned out fine for me, but the risks are very real no matter how many precautions you take. Add on top of that Bella's level of fatigue, she was just an accident waiting to happen.**

"**Personal penis" in the last chapter is thanks to FFCherry. (Of COURSE I'm going to give you credit for it, bb!). Thank you—there were many readers who really enjoyed the twist on that reference. :)**

**The Annoy-A-Tron is real, and you can get it at thinkgeek dot com. It is complete and total win. Uh, hypothetically speaking, of course…**


	30. FUBAR

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: In any good story, there needs to be a conflict that requires resolution. We have arrived at that point in this story. For many of you, it is going to be difficult to read—the next few chapters are not wussperv safe. However, I ask that you trust me to tell the story like it needs to be told, knowing that all will be well in the end. There are only HEAs in kimpyland, I promise. Because you can only select two genres on FFn, I still maintain that this story is mainly romance/humor.**

**Things I own: A nagging headache and a case of bronchitis. I swear that you won't catch it by reading my story. **

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who is brave enough to read even my heartfail chapters. I love you, Trin. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who makes sure I don't embarrass myself with grammarfail. Ladyeire72, thank you for prereading, and I'm sorry for every time I make you cry.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: FUBAR**

The woman I love more than life itself has a needle sticking out of her neck, and I put it there. Not on purpose, of course, but it is still my fault. I was so fucking worried about the lumbar puncture samples—what should have been clear and straw colored came out cloudy and thick—that I wasn't paying attention to the needle in my hand. All it took was the sneeze from our patient to knock everything out of balance.

Bella is crying, and every gasp she takes feels like a knife stab to my heart. My hands start to shake and I feel my chest tighten. I know the possible consequences of what just happened, and I feel like I need to puke.

I push the code blue button, and everyone descends into the room at once—it's the best way to expedite getting care for Bella. I'm given a new nurse so I can finish up, while Bella is spirited away to the ER. She's going to get a full work up, blood draws, appropriate antibiotics, the works. Needless to say, the situation is dire, because this is one incredibly sick baby, and Bella has been doubly exposed via respiratory secretions and blood-to-blood contact.

_Fucking hell, Cullen, you novice idiot! How could you let this happen?_

Every fiber of my being wants to be with Bella, but I have to think about the patient. I've never had so much trouble focusing in my life. I know exactly what kind of terrible things might happen to her, and I feel nearly paralyzed with dread and worry.

"Did you want me to label the samples for you, Dr. Cullen?" Jasper's deep voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, these will need to be walked down to the lab. The fluid was purulent when I drew it."

"Really? Shit." The look on Jasper's face indicates he understands as much as I do how bad this might be, for both the patient and for Bella.

Jasper takes the vials from me and prepares them for the lab techs.

I take a moment to do a more in-depth assessment of the patient. If it's meningitis—and I'm almost positive that it is—it's most likely a deadly form that moves with lightning speed. He needs to get to MRI and we also need to figure out what the organism is in order to treat him effectively.

I know that one in four kids who get bacterial meningitis will die, even with the best, most rapid treatment. If they have the type that progresses in 24 hours or less, the odds of a fatal outcome are 50%. I'm working with some serious shit here, and McCarty needs to know what's going down. This isn't something I want to, nor should, handle alone. I take a brief moment to page him, and wait for him to return my call.

As I look the little guy over, he has all the signs and symptoms of being acutely ill. He is almost completely unresponsive, which is a terrible sign. When you have an 8-month-old baby who doesn't react when you do a lumbar puncture, you know that you're dealing with something wicked bad. At least when he was in the ER, they reported that he was agitated and fussy. I'd take that over unresponsive any day.

Overall, his color is dusky and mottled. That is a huge indicator that his heart and lungs have been compromised—the color is due to a lack of oxygen to his tissues. It also tells me that, in all likelihood, the meningitis has spread to the little guy's bloodstream. Any delays I make right now could mean the difference between life and death for this child, so I'm extremely careful in my assessment.

_Sepsis. Meningitis and sepsis. I just fucking know it._

I check his cap refill—another indicator of how well blood is reaching his extremities—by pressing on his hands and feet, then counting how long it takes the skin's color to return to normal. The longer it takes, the worse the circulation is. We like it to be less than two seconds; his is more than four.

_Shit. What the hell did I expose Bella to?_

I feel my phone buzz. It's Emmett.

"This is Cullen."

"What do you have for me?"

"We got an admit from the ER, an 8-month-old male, and I'd bet the bank that we're dealing with meningococcal septicemia. He's been spiraling downward, and it's almost like I can see him getting worse right in front of my eyes."

"What are the vitals?"

I quickly list off all the vitals and specifics I assessed so far. "Not only that, but the spinal fluid was cloudy."

"Aw hell. So, what are you going to do about it?"

He's testing me, but I'm ready.

"I'm going to intubate to protect his airway, start prophylactic antibiotics, and get him down to MRI."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be in as soon as possible."

I need to tell him about Bella, but I hate having to admit a fuck up. As my Attending, Emmett has to know.

"Wait just a second… I, uh, need to tell you something else."

"Oh?" he says, warily.

"During the lumbar puncture, the patient sneezed on Bella Swan, and—"

"Please tell me she was wearing a splash shield!"

"Um, no, she wasn't, and—"

"Why the hell wasn't she?"

"There weren't any available in the room."

"Goddammit! Your dad is going to have my ass for that, you know."

"That's not all…"

"The fuck? There's _more_?"

"When the patient sneezed, I had the spinal fluid in vials, so I was trying to protect them. Somehow, when the dust settled, the spinal tap needle ended up in Swan's clavicle."

I hear the worst possible response McCarty could give me—absolute silence. It is at once both deafening and agonizing.

"Oh, Christ…" his voice trails off. "Is she being taken care of?"

"Of course. Charge nurse is on top of it."

"Good. Listen, I'll be there as soon as I can, but I need you to hang in there and hold things together. I know you're worried about Swan, but you need to focus on the patient."

"Yeah, I know. I'll do my best."

The patient's blood pressure is drifting downward, another sign that sepsis is setting in. I need to get moving, STAT. When Jasper returns to the room, I tell him what needs to happen.

"Whitlock, I'm almost positive we've got meningitis and sepsis going on here, so I need you to think fast and act even faster. We're going to intubate, get the kid to MRI, and give him a fluid bolus—do 20 mils per kilo of normal saline—to keep his blood pressure high enough. I'm going to order vanco and cefotaxime for broad antibiotic coverage, and I want to get them infusing before we leave. I also want some D5 NS as maintenance fluid to make sure we maintain his blood glucose levels. This kid is critically ill, and I need this to all take place yesterday. I know that, in all likelihood, I have about 12 hours before this kid dies, if my assumptions are correct. Every second is golden."

"Got it, Cullen. I'll go get the intubation cart."

We get a few more nurses in the room, and I get the little guy intubated without incident. Pharmacy actually comes through for me—I guess that sometimes, STAT doesn't mean _five hours later_—and I've got my antibiotics going before we leave. The difficult part is all the preparation required to get the IVs ready for MRI. Because an MRI machine is essentially a huge magnet, nothing metallic can be in the room or on the patient. Since all IV pumps are made with metallic components, we need to string an excessive amount of IV tubing, so that the pumps can remain outside of the room, but still infuse into the patient during the procedure. It's about 7-8 feet of tubing in all, and it's a pain in the ass. Thank god that task falls to Whitlock and not to me; I'd never have the patience for it.

It's always a chore to get a ventilated kid down to imaging, but it has to be done. Normally, they're accompanied by one of our nurses and a respiratory therapist. I'm going to go down with them, however, since this patient is so critically ill. If he crashes while we're there, we'll only have seconds to help him out. I make sure Jasper is bringing a resuscitation kit with him, complete with things like epinephrine, albumin, and sedation meds, along with anything else we might need.

We're on our way, looking like the side show to a circus, we have so much gear in tow. It's nearly impossible to fit everyone into the elevator, along with all the equipment—it's always a tight squeeze.

As we wait to get to the basement of the hospital, my mind wanders back to Bella. I wonder what they're doing to help her right now. They've probably flushed her eye with normal saline. I know from experience that it's an incredibly unpleasant procedure. They basically lean you backwards over a sink and run an entire litre of normal saline into your eye until it's empty. Then, they hang another bag and repeat the whole process. I'm fairly certain the patient sneezed all over her face, which means they'll have to flush both of her eyes. I wince internally at the thought of her going through that, and I feel like total shit once again.

_All my fucking fault_.

As far as the needle stick is concerned, there isn't a lot that can be done. They'll scrub the area as much as possible, but if the patient's sample has been injected into her bloodstream, there is only so much they can do. They'll give her some antibiotics right away to help keep the meningococcal organism from replicating, and hope that they are the right ones for whatever strain she might have caught.

The elevator doors open, and I'm instantly back to my patient, and getting him to MRI as quickly as possible. I know that at the very least, it will be a 45-minute process just for the imaging. Getting the patient set up and ready to go adds even more time. We have a portable monitor with us, so that we can always see what the patient's vital signs are. If his blood pressures get critically low, I'll be able to intervene emergently.

We work to move our boy from his PICU bed to the MRI table. Between his breathing tube, IV lines, and everything else, it's an incredibly delicate process. One false move, and we could yank the central line out of his neck, or dislodge his breathing tube. Our efforts take about 5 minutes, even with all of us working together; it's another five minutes that we really don't have.

Jasper dons his lead shield and makes sure to put earplugs into both the patient's ears and his own. The MRI is incredibly loud. Jasper wants to remain close, so that he can intervene immediately should something go wrong. I sit behind the glass window, next to the MRI tech. That way, I can watch the scans as they occur; it's incredibly gratifying to be able to see things as they happen, instead of waiting upstairs for the results to post.

I'm watching the first images, and it's patently obvious that the brain looks abnormal. Instead of having a clear delineation between brain tissue and cerebral fluid, the patient's MRI is all cloudy.

_Just like the sample from the lumbar puncture. Jesushchrist this is not good._

"CULLEN!" I hear Whitlock shout.

I look up, and see him bolting out of the room.

"He's got the rash starting! On his foot!"

"Oh, hell. This is just a regular shit storm," I mumble to myself. I'm on my feet to assess the rash before it even registers in my brain what I'm doing. I quickly ask the MRI tech to pause the procedure. When I reach the patient, I look at his foot, and Jasper nailed the call—it is the telltale rash of septicemia. I pull a sharpie marker out of my pocket, drawing a line of demarcation, and make a note of the time. This will help us track the rash's progression. The worse the rash becomes, the worse the child's outcome will be. Things just plummeted from bad to worse.

"Excellent call. Keep your eyes peeled for more, okay?"

He nods, and I return to the imaging desk. As the scan proceeds, I page McCarty to let him know about the rash. Once we're done, I call the charge nurse; she needs to let the ER know exactly what we're dealing with here.

"God, he's already got the rash? He's only been here for a few hours!"

"Yeah, I know. At least we got his antibiotics going right away, so we have that much going for us. I have the feeling we'll need to get some pressors started once we get back to keep his blood pressure high enough. Can you make sure pharmacy has that ready to go?"

"Sure. Do you want dopamine? Epi?"

"Get dopamine and dobutamine. We'll hold off on epi—that could increase his risk of losing an arm or a leg."

"Sounds good. You hear anything else, let me know, so I can pass it along to the ER."

"Yep. Thanks, Shelly. We should be done here in about 20 minutes."

Whenever a patient gets the rash from meningococcal septicemia, there is a possibility that the damage to tissues is so bad that they become necrotic. It's not uncommon for survivors to lose an entire limb to septicemia. Even if you are lucky enough to survive the illness, you can suffer long-term consequences, like permanent brain damage, memory loss, or deafness. The fact that this kiddo already has a rash means that he'll probably lose his foot. All things considered, though, losing a foot isn't nearly as bad as dying; I just hope to hell we can spare him from that.

When the scan is complete, we work in reverse to load the patient back into his bed and transported to the PICU as quickly as possible. McCarty is waiting for us when we arrive. I give him a quick report of all our interventions so far, and he takes time to assess the patient.

"It's good work that you recognized this was going septic, you know. It might just be the lucky break he needs to survive."

I just shrug my shoulders. I don't feel as though I've done a single admirable thing today.

When he sees the patient's blood pressure, he barks out orders to Jasper.

"I need dopa and dobutamine started, now! We'll need to get an arterial line in this kid, too."

An arterial line is similar to a central line, only it is used to monitor blood pressure directly from the heart, so it is a more accurate reading than a blood pressure cuff. While Emmett gets set up for the procedure, my phone rings.

"Cullen."

"Dr. Cullen, this is the lab. We thought you'd want to know that when we prepared the slide to do the blood count, we found bacterial cocci all over the place."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, I know. We're still culturing the specimens you sent, but I thought you'd want to know it's already widespread."

"Yeah. Thanks."

McCarty doesn't look up when he addresses me. "What'd they say?"

"He could see the cocci on the complete blood count slide."

"It's already that bad?"

"Afraid so."

"That's not what I wanted to hear. Shit."

Our patient is going downhill rapidly, and I honestly have no idea if he will live or die at this point. I feel terrible, but the only thing I can think about is Bella. I'm doing everything within my power to avoid all out panic, but I'm only mildly successful.

**~xXx~**

The average incubation period for meningitis is four days, but the range can be between two to ten days.

If I have to wait for ten fucking days to know if Bella will be all right, I am going to have a psychotic break. As it is, it's only been four hours since she got exposed, and she's still in the ER.

_What the fuck could possibly be taking so long?_

I think Shelly Cope is going to slit my throat if I ask her one more time about Bella.

I decide to do what any self-respecting PICU physician does when the shit hits the fan—I go to my dad for reassurance and perspective. The minute I enter his office, my throat tightens up. I feel like I'm confessing murder to the Pope.

"Dad, I have something horrible to tell you. It's something horrible that I've done. As a doctor."

In his cool, calm way, he gently asks me what the problem is, just like he's always done. Like the consummate pro he is, he leaves his desk to come sit next to me, so I know I have his full attention. It's like a sudden infusion of courage.

"Sit down, Edward. Take a deep breath. Tell me your story."

"It's Bella," I start, my voice already sounding frantic. "We have a kid who has meningococcal septicemia, and he sneezed in Bella's face when I was doing an LP. She wasn't wearing a splash shield. I had the patient's spinal fluid in vials, and I was so worried about tipping them over. Somehow, the needle ended up in her clavicle."

"Now that sounds to me like an accident, not something horrible that you've done in your scope of practice as a physician. You can't always foresee what a patient is going to do, especially when you work with children."

"But I infected her with whatever the hell is running through that kid's veins! God only knows what's going to happen!"

"Son, you still need to breathe. You're allowing your fear and fatigue to make you panic. Now, tell me the facts. Did Bellar get to the ER?"

"Yes, of course. I pushed the code blue alarm, and it was taken care of immediately."

"And you saw to the patient?"

"Yes, I called McCarty and he came right in. I did everything I should have done, according to protocol. Emmett let me go a little early, since there was nothing more that we could do."

He nods his head. "Well, then, it sounds like you've done everything you could have, and then a little bit more on top of that. I think what's really getting to you is the fact that all we have left to do now is wait."

"That's just it, Dad—I can't do it. I somehow managed to get the woman of my dreams to fall in love with me, and I can't sit here, waiting to see if she will fade away. I don't have what it takes. I don't ever want to be without her, I can't even think about that. What am I supposed to do? I feel like I'm tied up in a straightjacket, going right to hell. I can't stand it, I just can't."

"I want you to listen to me now, very closely. You need to be Bellar's rock. The person she needs most is you. You _must_ stand it. You better believe that if it were your mother, I would never leave her side. This is a time that is going to test you more than any other in your life. Just imagine if she were pregnant and experiencing issues with the pregnancy—how would you deal with that? You are a strong, intelligent man, son. The two of you will get through this together. Just go and be with her, and never let her go. Bellar is a part of our family now, and families stick together."

My cheeks feel damp; I wasn't even aware that I was crying. I hug my father, hoping that my arms will convey all those deep-seated emotions that I am unable to put into words. He's a better man than I will ever be, but I am grateful that he is here, helping me figure out what to do. I'd be lost without my parents.

I pull back from him slightly and utter, "Thank you."

"You're always welcome, son. Both your mother and I are delighted that you chose someone as special as Bellar to love. You know she's your equal in every way."

"No, Dad, she's not. She's a far better person than I will ever be."

He gives my hand a squeeze. "Why don't you go see if they've been able to get her a room, hmm? Do you want me to talk to McCarty to arrange a few days off, so you can focus on your girl?"

Shit, I hadn't even thought about that. "Uh, sure. That's a good idea. Thanks, Dad. For everything. Just when I think I might be able to wear even one of your shoes, reality puts me back in my place."

"Edward, you make me so proud every day. You work so hard, and to see the fine man you've grown into, with such integrity—I couldn't, nor wouldn't, ask for more from you."

I feel another tear fall down my cheek and I haul ass out of there before I lose it all together.

When I reach the PICU, Shelly Cope is waiting for me. She hands me a slip of paper. "This is Bella's room number. She'll be observed and treated there. She signed a consent form to allow you to be there as next of kin."

_I'm Bella's next of kin? I get to stay with her? She's letting me do that?_

My heart bursts with joy. My smile must be a mile wide. It only lasts a minute or two, until the reality of her situation floods back into the forefront of my mind.

**~xXx~**

If Bella needs to wait around to see if she is going to get meningitis, I'm sure as hell going to make it fun for her. I also know that when nurturing is required, no one does it better than Esme Cullen. I know that she's been chomping at the bit to spend time with Bella ever since my birthday dinner, so I decide that now is as good a time as any to introduce her to the fierce caretaking skills of my mother. My only hope is that I don't end up regretting my decision.

I'm exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, but that doesn't stop my mom from peppering me with a million questions about Bella. Before I even have time to process everything, the tornado otherwise known as Esme Cullen descends. Suddenly, Bella has a special Tempurpedic pillow, the softest fleece blanket I've ever felt, special socks to make her feet softer, some crossword puzzle books (I might just end up stealing these from her), a stack of books and DVDs, and an assortment of snacks so huge that it could feed a hungry football team. Like I said, _fierce_ caretaking skills. My mother takes her role very, very seriously. I think she even amped it all a notch because Bella no longer has a mother of her own, and because she would very much like Bella to be her new daughter. I'm going to need to pull her aside and ask her to tone things down a bit, or Swan will serve me with protection orders.

"Oh my god, Esme, this is all too much! I'm just sitting here and waiting to see what happens, I don't expect the princess treatment!" Bella complains.

I wave my hands in front of Bella like a crazy man; I'm trying to warn her that the more you protest to my mother, the stronger she lays it on. Unfortunately, Bella doesn't read crazy man sign language very well, so she just keeps going.

"Seriously, you have just made it so enticing to laze about in bed, I won't want to leave!"

I stop waving my hands for a moment. The idea of Bella Swan never leaving bed again is a very appealing one. Perhaps I should just let the chips fall where they may.

"Swan, I was thinking we should do Chinese tonight so we can read each other's fortunes again."

She gives me a beautiful smile. "I'd really like that," she says softly.

My mom speaks up, and I suddenly remember that we're not alone in Bella's room. "I'll get it for you. Just tell me what you'd like."

"Mom, you don't need to be our errand girl; we can just get it delivered."

"No, actually I'll grab some for your father, and we can have dinner together in his office."

It just occurred to me that there is probably a very specific reason that my mom wants to visit my dad in his office.

"Mom, you are such a sly dog!"

"Whatever do you mean?"

I shake my head, chuckling. "Eat dinner in his office."

She looks at me, her head askance and brow furrowed. "Yes, that's what I said."

"A private dinner, Mom? In Dad's office?"

I watch as her cheeks flush. "That is none of your business, my dear boy."

"Whatever. You're such a hussy, Esme Cullen!"

"Oh, Edward. You're going to be very sorry you said that. Remember, I'm your mother. I know all your secrets."

I swallow hard, knowing she is absolutely right. Bella takes a moment to whack me in the stomach. I'm being attacked from both sides.

"Point taken. Shutting up."

"Such a smart boy." My mom grins at me. "You must have an amazing mother to be so clever."

I lean over and give her a kiss. "Thanks, mom. You're so much better at this than I could ever be."

"I'm such a sucker, I fall for the kiss and the thank you every time."

"Yeah, but think about who my father is. I learned from the best."

She musses my hair, looking at Bella. "I'm going to warn you to stay away from this boy's charms. It's like staring into a cobra's eyes."

Bella wraps her hand in mine. "I'm afraid it's a little too late for that."

I lean over and kiss her forehead, even though I have my stupid facemask on.

While we wait for my mom to return, I take a moment to see how Bella is really doing.

"So, all in all, how are you feeling?"

"Ridiculous. Annoyed. Frustrated," she replies with a frown.

"You have to know how deeply sorry I am, Swan. If I could take it all back, I would."

"Cullen, this isn't your fault! God, accidents happen. We were tired, the kid moved, there was no way to avoid it. I'm still pissed at myself for not tracking down a splash shield."

"You are always too fast to forgive me, you know. I fucked up."

"If I hear you apologize one more time, you're going to lose a testicle."

"Right. No more apologies. I promise. I'm rather partial to having both balls, thank you very much."

"I'm rather partial to both of your balls, too."

She tugs at my collar to get me into bed with her. As I tumble in next to her, I do my best not to land on top of her.

"Bella, you know we can't do this. Not when you could be sick."

I say the words, but stay where I am. I know as sure as anything, I need to be careful here, but she's my Bella. How can I possibly pull myself away from her warmth and softness? I get my answer as I run my nose through her hair, deeply inhaling her scent.

_I can't._

She whispers in my ear, "Once they come to hang my antibiotics, we'll have an hour when they don't come in to disturb us."

"We can't. You know that."

I feel her fingers in my hair, and hear her whimper. "Please, Edward? Please? I need you. Now more than ever."

My mind ticks off all the reasons I shouldn't, I can't, but my cock is clearly not listening. It helps me devise an ingenious plan.

At that moment, Bella's nurse comes in to give her IV antibiotics and take her vitals.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," I tell her with a wink. Her answering grin tells me she knows that I'm up to no good.

I slip out to grab a couple of things I'm going to need.

Bella is dozing lightly by the time I return, so I just wait in my bedside chair that had to be a gift to the hospital from Abu Ghraib prison. Sitting in it is positively torturous.

_This is really what we provide for our patient's parents? _

Bella's IV pump starts to beep, signaling that the infusion is complete. Now that she's had a couple doses of vancomycin and cefotaxime, powerful antibiotics that are our first line of defense against meningitis, I'm feeling a little bit better about the likelihood of her getting septic. When the nurse comes in to turn off her IV, Bella stirs.

"You let me fall asleep, Edward!"

"You were resting so comfortably, I couldn't stand to wake you up."

"Damn, you had that look on your face when you left… I was hoping you were up to no good."

"Of course I was up to no good."

"Well then, what are you waiting for?"

"I was waiting for you to be awake and the nurse to be out of our hair for a while."

"Oh, well I can take care of that for you," I watch as she presses the nurse call light.

A few minutes later, someone peeks her head in through the door. "What can I do for you, Bella?"

"I'm going to rest here for a little bit, so I'm wondering if you could hold off coming in to do vitals until midnight, so I can get a few hours of sleep."

"Sure. Just use the call light if you need anything."

"Thanks," she says with a shy smile, then turns to me. "And that, my dear Edward, is how you get rid of the nurse for a few hours. Now, what is it you wanted to show me?"

I know that I can't kiss Bella, and we really shouldn't have sex, even with protection, there is something I _can_ safely do. I put on the pair of gloves I grabbed earlier, keep my facemask and isolation gown on, and slide into bed next to Bella. Her bed is propped up at a 30 degree angle, and I turn over onto my side, leaning into her. I place my masked face near her ear while sliding my gloved hand under her shirt. One of the benefits of being confined to a hospital bed means _no bras_. If I have my way, Bella will never wear a bra again. My lovelies are right in front of me, unconstrained.

_Fuck, yes._

Since I can't really fuck her, I decide to devote all my attention to pleasing her, as a way to apologize for getting her into this mess in the first place. I'm going to go for broke, whispering the filthiest things into her ear that I can imagine, while giving her the manual treatment.

"Bella Swan, your pierced nipples drive me to distraction. Every time I see you, I want to get my hands on your tits and twist the hell out of your barbells. You're such a naughty girl to distract me from my work like that."

She responds with a gasp.

_Oh, it's working._

"Remember when we went tubing on the river, and you wore that ridiculous excuse for a bikini? You were practically naked in front of me, and you made me want to fuck you so badly. My mind was actually calculating all the different ways I could take you without even removing your suit. Your hot little pussy was practically telegraphing me signals with when to take you and how."

I give her nipple a pinch.

"Fuck yes, Cullen."

"Then there was the time you were wearing a thong under your scrubs, and I could see it peeking out the back. Such a tease, knowing I couldn't touch you at work. I swear to god, you practically waved your hot little ass in front of me on purpose."

I tap her knees so that she'll spread her legs for me. Without moving her panties, I slide my gloved hand over the outside, barely touching her lips. Her hips flex to increase the amount of friction, but I firmly hold them in place with my other hand.

"When you use your mouth on me, looking up at me with your big eyes, it's so fucking hot, I nearly come every time you do that. No one has ever touched my cock the right way until you. I never want another pair of lips wrapped around me. You've ruined me for everyone else."

She responds by grabbing my hand and dry humping it. I fucking love watching her use me to get herself off. I take a moment to remove her panties, then I grab my secret weapon out of my scrub pocket—a packet of KY jelly. I squirt some onto my gloved finger, then rub it all over her back door.

"God, your pussy is so beautiful!" I spread her lips, taking in the view. "I love watching my cock slide in and out of you, the way your lips cling to me; I know it's the only pussy I'll ever want to bury myself in. I wish I could fucking slam into you right now."

She arches her back, panting, using her hand to guide my own.

"Back door, too, Cullen. Please."

I'm happy to oblige my incredibly sexy girl. It thrills me to no end that she's always so adventuresome.

"Do you want me to touch your clit, baby? Do you want me to get you off?"

"God, yes!"

"Like this?" I ask, rubbing her clit between my thumb and forefinger.

Her only response is a deep moan.

I slide two fingers into her. "Pretend this is my cock, because you know how badly I wish I could be sliding into your cunt right now. I'd thrust so hard into you, bumping up against your G-spot. You'd be begging me to make you come. Do you want to? Do you want me to make you come?"

"YES!"

I press my hard cock into her thigh, so she understands just how badly I want her right now. I'm completely unprepared for what she does next.

"Gloves off," she commands, removing my hands from their position inside of her.

No sooner than I accomplish my task, I feel a tug on my scrub bottoms, and before I know it, I'm on top of Bella. My cock is right _there_, and I can feel her warmth, even if I'm not deep inside of her.

_I totally forgot the inherent value of the dry hump._

Bella squeezes my ass cheeks while she grinds into my hard on, and my dirty talking is completely over. I can't manage anything more coherent than a moan while I'm meeting her thrust for thrust. I haven't dry humped like this since high school, and it feels incredible. If you can't have actual sex, the dry hump is complete and total win. I'm fucking going for mutual orgasms here.

Somehow, I'm able to collect my thoughts enough to utter one more dirty command into Bella's ear. "I want you to come so hard while my cock is giving your pussy what it needs. You might not come while I'm buried deep inside you, but I'm going to make you come all the same."

She wraps her legs around my hips while pulling me into her as closely as possible, and arches, letting loose a low moan. When her orgasm resides, she slides her hand in between her pussy and my cock, giving me a firm squeeze. It's all I need to get on my own O face.

Once I get my breath back, I whisper in her ear, "Hottest fucking girl on the planet and you're all mine. Thank you."

"I'm the lucky one, Cullen, you know that."

"I love you so much."

"Ditto."

We're quiet, still hanging out in our glow.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" I answer, sleepily.

"When I get out of here, promise me that you'll fuck me in the ass again."

Just like that, I'm very alert.

"I promise to fuck you anywhere you want me to, baby. All you have to do is ask."

"Good answer," she says with a yawn.

It takes me a few minutes to calm down after that, but not long—we're both mentally and now physically exhausted from all we've been through. We fall asleep together, spooned in Bella's hospital bed. I don't even bother to take off my isolation gear, which is probably a good thing, since I shouldn't really be this close to her.

**~xXx~**

Sometime around midnight, the nurse wakes me up. "Dr. Cullen, you really need to get out of her bed. Do you want me to get a sleeper chair for you?"

Disoriented, it takes me a minute to realize where I am. "Hmm? Chair?"

"I'll get one for you, just a second."

I climb out of Bella's bed, chagrinned that I actually let myself fall asleep with her. Before I know it, I'm in my own sleeper chair, and nodding off once again.

I'm awakened again a few hours later to Bella shivering loudly.

I shake her body, "Bella, are you all right?"

She doesn't answer, just continues to shiver. I call the nurse in to ask for some warm blankets. She's back in minutes with several, and we lay them over Bella's cold body.

"Would you take her temperature, please? I'm worried that it might be too low."

One of the hallmark symptoms of sepsis is a very high, or a very low, body temperature. I need to reassure myself that this is nothing more that a slight temperature shift.

"Oh!" the nurse replies.

"What?" I growl out at her.

"She's only ninety-five point six."

I tuck the warm blankets around Bella's body and ask her to come back again in fifteen minutes to recheck the temp. It's the longest fucking fifteen minutes of my life, but by the time she returns, Bella's shivers have subsided. Her temp on recheck is ninety-seven, so I feel a bit better about that, and allow my worry to calm down just a bit.

I continue to sleep restlessly all night, awakening every time the nurses come in to check Bella, or hang another IV med. I fall right back asleep the minute they leave the room, but I still feel exhausted. Bella, on the other hand, is sleeping like the dead. Her nurse finds it difficult to wake her up for her assessments.

Eventually, the sun comes up, and Bella wakes up, too. I was worried about her overnight, but she seems to be just fine once she's finally awake. The emphasis is on the word finally; Bella Swan is no morning person. I've learned that she is rather owly until she has her morning coffee.

My mother pops in periodically throughout the day to drop off a smoothie, or Bella's favorite coffee, or something else to brighten her room.

"Mom, Bella isn't disabled—you can tone it down a little bit."

She doesn't answer me, she merely gives me a _look_. It's a look that tells me, "Look here, mister, if she's going to be my daughter-in-law, I can spoil her as much as I want to. Unless, of course, you'd like me start talking about how much I'd love for her to be my daughter-in-law."

I forgot to mention that my mother is capable of conveying entire conversations with just one of her _looks_. She is a talent and a wonder to behold, at least when you aren't on the receiving end of said _look_.

Needless to say, I make no further comments about my mother and spoiling Bella Swan.

In the afternoon, Bella is starting to go stir crazy, so I volunteer to watch _Pride and Prejudice_ with her. Yes, I love Bella Swan enough to be coerced into watching Jane Austen. In fact, before the movie is over, she has fully explained to me precisely why the Colin Firth version is the ultimate _P+P_, and how everything else pales in comparison. I tell Bella that her opinion may be a tad biased because of the Wet Darcy scene, but she merely scoffs at me.

We both nod off before the movie is over (it's over four hours long, after all), and I'm in the middle of a dream when I feel her nudging me. I startle awake, looking straight at her.

"Edward!" she whispers loudly, a shocked look on her face. "I've been trying to talk myself out of it, but it's no use. I have to admit that I've got the worst headache I've ever had in my life." Her tone is one of abject terror.

In all the time I've known Bella, she has never once complained about any kind of physical discomfort. She is as stoic as a frosty Greenlander in the middle of January in that regard. So when she complains of a headache? I know it can only mean one thing.

_Bella Swan has meningitis._

SATURDAY, JULY 10, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_ACCIDENTS HAPPEN_

Recently, one of my patients was a victim of head trauma. Fortunately, she was wearing her bike helmet; otherwise, she would be dead. She had it firmly strapped upon her head. That is the only reason why her family is not at the funeral home right now.

As a nurse in a pediatric ICU, I've seen just about every kind of scenario imaginable. Miracles, tragedies, they are the stuff of an average day at work. Most of the time, the kids who die under my watch have had chronic disease, meaning I've watched them digress over a period of time. It's the accidents, however, that get to me, because they are so unnecessary.

A teenaged boy who flips his car on the road because he's texting while driving. A five month old baby shaken by his baby sitter. A one year old who drowns because her mother thought she would be safe since she had water wings on. A baby with a torn carotid artery from the neighbor's dog who had already bitten twice before—the city lost the paperwork to declare the dog a menace to society. These are all preventable accidents that happened to beautiful, healthy children who I've taken care of. One minute, they're fine, the next, they are hovering near death. It almost makes me afraid to have my own child, knowing the kinds of things that can happen when you let your guard down for just a minute.

If you are a parent, please hug your child tightly when you tuck them in tonight. Be grateful that they are healthy, breathing, living children. You never know what might happen that could take it all away from you.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 10:02 PM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: FUBAR stands for "Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition." It's a term coined by the military in WWII. **

**Colin Firth is specifically for Roselover24. She knows why.**

**When Edward pushed the code button for Bella, his behavior was completely appropriate. While the patient wasn't coding, an emergency did take place, and he needed swift action to help Bella and the patient. I don't want anyone to think he was merely using his connections to save her.**


	31. Fix You

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I should have known, but of course I have the **_**best**_** readers in the fandom! Thank you all for trusting me to treat Edward and Bella with care through the heartfail. **

**Things I own: A love of Canada, one kickass country. The best way to visit its beauty, aside from a vacation, is to watch the movie **_**One Week**_**. It's a Canadian indie film, and the scenery is drop dead gorgeous.**

**Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who is always running at full cylinders with her busy life and baking projects, but never fails to give me some of her time to beta a chapter. I really don't deserve you, bb. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who never fails to find all my written flaws, even when she isn't in the best of health. And thanks to Ladyeire72 for pre-reading, because she is such a devoted, lovely lady. **

**CHAPTER THIRTY: FIX YOU**

Sometimes, even when you do everything right, the outcome is still all wrong.

I'm not sure if it's because it took too long to get Bella to the ER, or if they didn't use the right prophylaxis, or what, but all their best, quickest interventions didn't work. Bella's still getting sick, and it's still my fault.

If Bella has meningitis, I'm certainly not waiting 15 minutes for a doctor to show up. I'm going to assess her right fucking now.

I take a deep breath before I do anything, as my father's advice rings in my mind: _You need to be Bellar's rock. The person she needs most is you. You __**must**__ stand it._

_I am a rock. I am a rock. I am Bella's rock._

I almost believe myself.

With the calmest voice I can manage, I start to ask Bella some questions.

"How long have you had the headache?"

"It woke me up about an hour ago. I made the mistake of looking out the window, and the sunset was so bright it was like a knife stabbing my eyes. I looked away, but it still hurt. Since then, I've taking deep breaths and trying to relax, but it feels like there's so much pressure in my head that it's going to explode."

"I see. How about your neck? Can you touch your chin to your chest?"

I watch as tears well up in her eyes. "No, Edward, I can't. I've already tried."

"Will you try it once more, just for me? Please? I need to see how far you can go."

She gets about half way when her face spasms with pain and she stops abruptly.

"It feels like someone is trying to chop my head off."

"Okay, I understand. Thanks for trying." I lean over and give her a forehead kiss through my mask.

"Edward, I'm so scared. I don't want to die."

"Hey now, who said anything about dying? You're my girl; you think I'm going to let that happen to you?"

She replies in a whisper. "You can't know that—no one knows how this will go. My body is totally run down from stress and lack of sleep. That kid is so sick, too. It doesn't look good."

I'm just as scared as she is, but I need to keep her as optimistic as possible.

"Bella, you've been on antibiotics almost from the moment you were exposed. You're going to have the best outcome possible given the facts. If you have to get meningitis, the best place to get it is in the hospital. We totally nipped it in the bud."

She doesn't answer, but just lets out a heavy sigh.

I use my pocket light to check her pupils, and it makes her wince in pain. They're pretty sluggish, which isn't an encouraging sign.

Her heart rate is faster than I'd like it to be, her hands and feet are cool to the touch, and when I check her capillary refill, it's 3-4 seconds.

_Yep. Meningitis. Fuck._

I press the nurse call light. Within a couple of minutes, we're greeted by Bella's nurse.

"What can I do for you, Bella?"

"Um, I'm starting to get the symptoms."

I decide to cut in. "I need you to contact neurology, please. She has the telltale signs developing. Nuchal rigidity, headache, light sensitivity, tachycardia, cap refill of 4 seconds. She's starting to clamp down. She had a low temp last night, and woke up shivering. We need to check her pressures, too. I don't want them to get too low."

The nurse looks appropriately concerned, and takes Bella's temperature. "She's 100.9 right now. I'll page neuro, then I'll be right back. Please let me know if anything else changes while I'm gone."

"Absolutely."

Bella yawns and looks at me with sleepy eyes. "I think I'm going to rest some more, if that's okay."

_Shit, there's another sign._

"If you aren't careful, Swan, I'm going to think you're playing the Sleeping Beauty routine just so I'll cop a feel."

She gives me a lazy smile. "Cullen, you're always looking for an excuse to grope me. Like I'd need to be Sleeping Beauty for that to happen! Plus, Prince Charming would never cop a feel. Kisses only in G-rated shows, you know."

I lean over and whisper in her ear. "We both know that you're the X-rated version of Sleeping Beauty, so it's only natural that you need Prince Charming to feel you up."

She flushes, and I instantly put the back of my palm on her cheek. I need to determine if this is a blush, or a change in her temperature.

"It's getting worse," she affirms. "That's a job hazard when you're an ICU nurse—you know exactly what you're dealing with."

I nod solemnly. "I'm going to watch over you. I'll make sure everything goes just right."

"Try not to piss anyone off, though. I have to work here when I get better," she says with a weak smile.

"I'll do my best, you know I will."

Neuro arrives just as Bella is nodding off. Dr. Carmen Santiago is on tonight, and I give her a quick report. I smile to myself, knowing that my dad likely had a say in who was assigned to Bella's case. Dr. Carmen is the best neurologist in the state of Washington, and has an unusually pleasant bedside manner.

"I see," she says, in her accented English. "We're going to put in a central line, and then intubate. Let's push fluids to maintain her pressures and we'll do our best to keep this from going septic. We're going to be very aggressive in our treatment. I assume that is okay with you, yes?"

Bella gives her a small nod and then gasps, forgetting how sore her neck is. This has to be an enormous blow, being cognitively aware that she's getting so sick. I can't even imagine how devastating that would feel.

I squeeze her hand. "We're going to beat this, you know."

Dr. Carmen interjects. "I'm going to get her down to surgery at once, so we can get started. We have no time to lose."

When she leaves, Bella starts sobbing. "Oh, god! A central line? Intubated?" She sniffs. "No. I just can't."

I put both of my hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look into my eyes. "You are the strongest woman I know, and I'm certain that you can do this. I'm not going to leave your side, I promise."

"Can you call Charlie for me? I'm not going to have time before I go to surgery and I'd never get the words out right, anyhow. Just remember that you need to be calm and frank, okay? I don't want him to worry needlessly."

"I can do calm and frank. No worries, love."

"I…um," Bella hesitates. "Is it too much to ask for your mom to stop by once I get back to the room? Her energy is very soothing."

I smile broadly. My mom is going to be so touched that Bella requested this.

"I know she will be honored to stop by. Of course I'll ask."

"Thank you, for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're never going to have to worry about that."

She heaves a deep sigh. "I'm so mad at myself that we wasted time fighting the other day. It was the worst night of my life, being without you. It felt all wrong." She starts to cry again. "Now I'm sick. What if we never get the chance to be together again? How could I have been so stupid as to banish you for a night? I'm so sorry, I really am."

I smooth out her hair and kiss the top of her head. "It's all forgotten, love. These things happen to everyone. When you get well, we'll get back to where we were; you'll see."

Bella's nurse walks into the room, along with the anesthesiologist. They're going to take her straight to the OR, so she won't have to hang around in pre-op. She poses a risk of infection to the other patients and staff. They dress Bella in a facemask. It is no small irony that they found one with a splash shield on it. I follow along, pushing the IV pole beside the bed. It's the only thing I can do, but I need to feel useful. Otherwise, I will start to panic.

When we arrive at the OR suite, I'm not allowed to proceed any further. I initially considered being in the room during the procedure, but then I realized that I couldn't bear to see them intubate her, or slice her open. It's one thing to do it yourself, but it's another thing entirely to see the person you love under the knife. I know it's something I could never handle.

I lean over to whisper in her ear. "I love you more than life itself, Bella Swan. I'll see you soon."

"I love you, too, Edward." She gives my hand a final squeeze.

I can't say another word, or it will be obvious to her that I'm holding back tears. I just squeeze her hand, and my heart breaks when I see the fear in her eyes.

**~xXx~**

While Bella is in surgery, I'm on my phone nearly the entire time. The first call I make is to my mom.

"Edward? What is it? Is Bella all right?"

"Ah, no, she isn't. Turns out she got meningitis after all. They're putting in a central line and proactively intubating her so she can be treated more aggressively."

"Oh, my dear boy. I'm so sorry."

"She asked for you to be here, when she gets to her room. She said needs your soothing presence."

"She asked for _me_?" The joy practically drips from my mother's voice.

"Yep. Looks like you won her over."

"You know how fond I am of her."

"Yeah, I gathered that." I chuckle.

"If she's going to be my dau—"

"Mom, don't even say it. I don't want to jinx a thing. I know where you're going with this."

"Hmm. You're certainly not making this easy on me, you know." She sighs deeply. "Do you need me to bring anything?"

"I do, in fact." I rattle off a number of things, knowing my mom can deliver.

My next call isn't nearly as easy. I've only spoken to the man once, and made an epic ass out of myself at the time.

I'm greeted by what sounds like, "Thisswan."

"Hello, Chief Swan?" I pause for an affirmation, but get none. "This is Edward Cullen. Dr. Edward Cullen."

There's an awkward, silent pause. It lasts a beat too long and I'm tempted to fill the silence with verbal diarrhea. Fortunately, he saves me from myself.

"You work with Bella?"

_Shit, he doesn't even remember me. _

"Yes, I spoke to you once before, on the phone?"

"Mmhmm," he replies tersely.

_Bella wasn't kidding when she said calm and frank._

"Well, sir, there's been a development here at work, and she asked me to call you on her behalf."

Chief Swan's energy changes abruptly.

"Development?"

"Yes, um, she was sneezed on by a patient, and then got an accidental needle stick."

"So why are _you_ calling me?"

"Because she was exposed to meningitis. It's a very fast-paced and dangerous disease affecting the brain. It looks like she's developing the symptoms. She's in surgery right now."

"Surgery?" His voice is full of alarm.

"Yes, they need to put in a special IV line that can handle all the medications she'll be getting. They also need to put in a breathing tube so that her disease can be treated aggressively."

"Her mom had a central line. Cancer."

_Jesus, I__'m so nervous, I totally forgot about that_.

"Oh, right. Bella has told me about that experience."

"How bad is it? Tell me the truth."

His tone implies that he distrusts doctors and their opinions. I realize I need to tread lightly here. I guess it's time for the frank part of the equation.

"I'm not going to lie to you; she is critically ill. The good news is that we started treating her almost immediately, so she has a very good chance for a full recovery."

"She might not get better?"

"Well, that is a possibility, of course…"

"How possible?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I need to know—how possible is it that she might not live?"

"I don't have a percentage for you, sir. What I can tell you is that when some people get meningitis, they are dead 24 hours later."

I swear I can hear him swallow.

"The patient we were working on is very, very ill. He might not make it. Bella got dosed with that from his sneeze and the needle stick."

"I lost her mother; I can't lose my little girl. You do whatever it takes to keep her alive."

"I promise, Chief Swan. I don't want to lose her, either."

"I'm on my way."

"I understand. I'll be here."

**~xXx~**

I have to wait in Bella's room for her to return from surgery, since they're going to bring her up directly once the procedures are complete. In the brief moments that my phone is not in use, Bella's diagnosis feels like a weight around my neck. I have no fucking idea how I'm going to manage to be strong for her. It's going to be like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

_Impossible._

I'm standing in her room when the nurse comes in; we startle one another.

"Oh! Dr. Cullen, I didn't know you were in here."

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for Bella to be done."

"I just got report. She's on her way up."

"Anything important I should know?"

"Everything went smoothly. They gave her a lot of sedation, though, so she'll be pretty unresponsive when she gets here."

"Thanks."

I'm totally unprepared for what I see when Bella arrives. Even though I've seen this set up a million different times, I've never thought anything of it. I'm so used to it, I don't really even see it; it's just part of the landscape. It becomes something else entirely, however, when you're in love with the person who is intubated.

My Bella—my strong, fiercely intelligent, clever girl—looks so weak. It's incredibly disconcerting. Her skin is deathly pale, even more so than usual. There's quite a bit of blood on the blanket from her central line, and they also gave her an arterial line. Her hair is a mess, and she has a special holster around her mouth and neck to hold her breathing tube in place. Her lips are cracked, and it reminds me that I need to figure out where the hell her chapstick is.

"Dr. Cullen? You have to go out into the hall, please."

"What? Why?"

"We need to clean up Bella and get her settled."

"Trust me, she'd be fine with it."

"But she's your colleague; I can't really let you stand there and watch."

I consider what she's saying for a second. I don't really want to rock the boat; it comes down to a matter of choosing your battles. Thus, I choose to wait in the hallway.

"Okay, I'll go. You'll let me know when you're finished?"

"Absolutely."

"Thanks."

About ten minutes later, I'm invited back into the room. Bella has been cleaned up, and is now wearing a hospital gown. Her nurse lifts the gown and moves a kelly clamp towards Bella's tits.

_What the hell?_

"Get your hands away from those piercings," I growl out. I know I'm being an ass, but I need to look out for Bella's best interests. "I don't care if you have to write a sign and post it above her bed, the piercings stay."

"But, Dr. Cullen, hospital policy is that all piercings have to be removed for the safety of the patient. It could get caught in the sheets and tear her nipples."

"Well, put band aids over them, then. Or dressings. Whatever it takes. Just _do not_ remove them."

"I don't know…" she hesitates.

"Look, I know they are very important to her, and she's gone through so much already. She hates IVs, and today she had to get a central line. The least you can do is leave the piercings." I give her my best manipulative puppy dog face. "Please?"

She sighs loudly. "Okay. But you don't tell anyone that I'm the one who left them, got it?"

"Thanks. Sorry I was so gruff. I'm just tired. You're doing a great job. If you want to write that Dr. Cullen was an ass to you in your nursing note, I'll totally own up to that."

She laughs in response. "That won't be necessary. I'd feel the same way if I were in her shoes."

The nurse leaves, and for the first time since she left her room for surgery, Bella and I are alone. I pull a chair up to the side of her bed and hold her hand. My eyes are doing a constant circuit between her breathing tube, her vent, and her monitor. I'm in hyperalert mode, watching everything. I tell myself for the hundredth time today that I'm not going to be able to do this, but somehow, I keep going.

I kiss Bella's hand, and absently start talking to her. "Swan, you're just not happy unless you're being a pain in my ass, are you?" I chuckle. "I'm happy to be your knight in shining armor when it comes to protecting your tits. Never fear, your nipples will always be safe with me. And no, there is absolutely no conflict of interest going on here."

"Hmm." I hear someone with a low voice clear his throat.

I look up to see a man in a police uniform is standing in the doorway, giving me a severe stare down.

_Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I bet that's Bella's dad._

Normally, the drive time from Forks to Seattle is between three and a half to four hours, but Chief Swan walks into the hospital about two and a half hours after we hung up the phone. For a moment, I'm shocked. Then I realize—he's a cop. His buddies probably escorted his police cruiser all the way here.

The naked truth of the matter is that I was expecting him to arrive in another hour, so I wasn't being guarded with my words. He just overheard me telling his daughter that I am her nipple protector. That's likely to go over really well.

I stand up and walk toward the door. As I get closer, I can see the letters "C. Swan" embroidered on his Forks, Washington police uniform.

_Yep. I'm officially fucked._

I groan internally, but still do my best to present a calm front.

"Chief Swan? I'm Edward Cullen. I talked to you earlier—on the phone." I hold my hand out as a greeting.

He gives me a curt nod to acknowledge my presence, ignoring my outstretched hand.

"Mmhmm."

I realize that to call Charlie Swan terse would be overdoing it. I didn't know it was possible to speak using only a combination of consonants and non-words.

At this point, I decide it's best to just stick to the facts and veer away from any talk about Bella's nipples. At least when her father is present.

"I'm surprised to see you here so soon. Bella just got back from surgery in the last half hour, and she's sedated right now. It's pretty stressful to be on a ventilator. We keep anyone with a breathing tube sedated, so that they don't know what's going on."

"She's going to have a hissy fit over that line."

"Yeah, I know. There's nothing we can do, though, and she was still conscious when she found out she'd be getting one. It won't be a surprise to her."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Sure. Tell her who you are. She might not remember it, but she'll know you were here, on some level."

"I'd like a moment."

"I'll just step outside."

I can just barely make out Charlie's words to his daughter. I'm not trying to eavesdrop, but I hear them anyhow.

"Bells, I don't know what kind of mess you've gotten into, but I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you. I need you to hang on for me, kiddo. Do not leave me, you hear?" His voice cracks during his last sentence.

His words are so sincere, I feel my throat constrict in response. It's probably the most he's said in the past five years. I'm surprised that he choked up, but I find that I am right there with him, emotionally.

That's when my mother appears, not a moment too soon. Her face is full of concern.

"I got here as quickly as I could, Edward, once I gathered the things you requested."

I walk over and give her a huge hug. I turn around and introduce her to Charlie Swan.

She holds out her hand for him to shake. "So pleased to meet you, Chief Swan. I've so enjoyed getting to know your daughter. She's a remarkable girl."

_God, does my mother know how to grease the wheels or what?_

Charlie gives me a suspicious look, but shakes my mother's hand. The fact that he didn't shake mine is not lost on me.

I rummage around in the bag while my mom talks to Charlie.

_Yes, mom, keep him distracted for me._

I find the item I've been searching for. I uncap the cherry chapstick and apply it to Bella's dry lips.

"I knew it would drive you nuts to have such dry lips while you're intubated. I promised to take care of you, baby, and I intend to keep that promise."

I probably shouldn't have used the word _baby_ in front of Chief Swan, but I can't help it. Terms of endearment seem to slip out whenever I'm with Bella.

Bella's nurse comes into the room, her arms full. I grab whatever it is she is carrying.

"Dr. Santiago just ordered some precautions for Bella."

When I look more closely at the items in my arms, I realize that they are seizure pads. It's not uncommon for meningitis patients to get seizures due to pressure that the disease puts on the brain.

"In addition to these seizure pads, we'll need to move the head of her bed up to 30 degrees to help lower her intracranial pressure. I'm going to keep the lights down and minimize the noise. Anything bright or loud right now will cause her acute pain. We'll be doing neuro checks on her every hour unless there is a change in her condition, then we'll be doing them more frequently. It may be necessary for me to be in the room at all times."

"Oh, well I was planning on staying here with her, so I'll do my best to stay on top of things."

"Sure, Dr. Cullen."

Chief Swan doesn't say anything.

"I've been monitoring her arterial pressures, and they've been good so far. Do you have fluids ready to go if they get too low?"

"Yes, they're hooked up to her central line."

"Great. Thanks."

The nurse walks out of the room, and Charlie starts peppering me with questions.

"She can have seizures? Is she going to have brain damage?"

"Meningitis patients do have seizures, sometimes. We're trying to do everything we can to keep her calm and comfortable so that she doesn't seize. Of course, if her temperature spikes, that can contribute to seizures, too."

Charlie sits down in a chair and puts his face in his hands, letting loose a deep sigh. "Aw, hell."

"I'm afraid that now it's just a waiting game to see how bad this will get before it gets better, Chief."

"What is that sign hanging above her bed for?"

_Oh, you mean the sign that says _Please leave piercings in place_? Shit, of course he noticed that._

"It's hospital policy that all piercings get removed from the patient so they don't accidentally snag on anything."

"But she doesn't have any piercings in her ears right now."

_I really, really don't want to be the person to tell this police chief that his daughter's nipples are pierced._

"Oh Charlie, it's just a standard precaution. It was probably put there before they removed her earrings. Just another sign that the staff will be extremely careful and observant in taking care of your daughter," my mom answers.

_Thank you, Esme Cullen. Once again, you save your son's ass._

I silently utter the words _thank you_ to my mom, behind Charlie Swan's back. She just gives me a grin. It's the kind of grin that lets me know I owe her—big time. I'm more than happy to pay up.

"Why don't we go get a cup of coffee downstairs? You look exhausted. Edward will watch over Bella."

"Yeah, I worked last night. Coffee sounds perfect."

**~xXx~**

While my mom and Charlie are gone, Alice and Jasper stop by to see Bella. I give them an update and then step out of the room to give them some time alone with her. In the ICU, only two people are allowed at the bedside at a time.

I slump into a chair just outside of Bella's room and let myself come down for a bit. I'm fucking exhausted; I should have asked my mom to bring back some coffee for me. My vigil is just starting.

I'm lost in my thoughts when a hand pats me on the back. I sit up abruptly, worried that something is wrong with Bella.

"Slow down, my boy! I just didn't want to sneak up on you. You seemed to be miles away from here."

Swear to god, I have the best parents in the world. Mom must have asked Dad to stop by, knowing I would feel calmer in his presence.

"Sorry, Dad. I'm a bit on edge."

"That's understandable. Bellar is a sick girl."

"Have you seen her chart?"

"I might have taken a quick peek before heading over here."

"Did you ask Carmen to be on this case?"

"Of course. One of our employees got harmed in the line of duty. We need to do everything in our power to make this right."

"Thank you for that. You know, I should have known the kid might sneeze. I can't believe I didn't make Bella find a face shield before the LP. I keep replaying her needle stick in my head, trying to figure out how it could have gone differently. I'm so afraid that she isn't going to make it. What am I going to do if she doesn't?"

"You did everything you could, Edward. You got help to her immediately afterwards. She started prophylactic treatment within hours of exposure. Your judgment was clinically brilliant. More than that, your love is going to make all the difference for her, because you give her a reason to come back to us."

"Love isn't going to save her, and you know it."

"Edward, listen to me. I've been a doctor for years. I've seen thousands of cases in that time. The one thing that can truly make a difference is being well loved. You know as well as I do that critically ill children react to hearing their parent's voices—you can see it in the changes in their vital signs. You must tell her exactly what she means to you and all the ways you will prove it when she regains consciousness."

I hear Alice and Jasper walking toward the door, so I stand up and give my dad a hug. I need to go back to Bella.

"Remember, no matter what—keep reminding her why she is needed here."

"I will. Thanks for everything, Dad."

"If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call me any time. I don't care if it's in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, I will."

Alice and Jasper give me a quick hug before they leave, and I resume my place next to her bed.

I suddenly remember the bag my mom brought for me. I reach over and grab it. Inside, there is a small turquoise box. I take it and gently remove the cover. Trust my mother to get things just right. I have no idea how hard she had to look to find everything, but I will never doubt her ability to get a job done properly. I pull the charm bracelet out and look it over. She found everything!

"Swan, you are going to giggle over this when you wake up, I just know it. I've been a sly devil."

I start to talk to Bella about each charm. These are her reasons to return to me.

I take the nurse's cap, then the caduceus charm, between my fingers. "I started with the cap and caduceus, because they symbolize your chosen profession. I know that above all else, you are proudly a nurse. It's such an integral part of who you are. To not include these charms would have been like a slap in the face."

Next is the charm in the shape of a pie. "You seduced me with your pie, on more than one occasion. It's both so homey and so sultry. I can't eat pie without thinking of you."

"This fortune cookie reminds me of one of our first dinners together, and also is meant to give you good fortune, so you recover quickly."

I smile and chuckle at myself over the lobster charm. "I remember how upset you were when I boiled lobsters for you. Now I know better—this lobster is here because you _are_ my lobster, forever. Even better, no lobster couples were split apart in the making of this charm."

Every time I introduce a charm, I make sure to close her fingers around it, so she can feel it. I want her to go through the experience with me, even if she isn't aware of what's happening.

"The Hershey's kiss is self explanatory. I just want the chance to kiss you whenever I see you walk by."

The final charm is a key in the shape of a heart, with tiny diamonds along its surface. "This one? This one is the most special, Bella. It's the key to my heart, and it's all yours."

I bend over to put the bracelet on her wrist. It's breaking hospital policy again, but I honestly don't give a shit. This is what's really important.

**~xXx~**

I sit silently holding Bella's hand, talking to her, reminding her of all the reasons she needs to be here—with us.

_With me._

I promise her over and over again that if she comes back to me, I'm never going to let her go. I tell her all the reasons why I need her. All the things we're going to accomplish together once she's better. I promise her ridiculous things, wild things, all in the hopes that it will finally cause her to open her eyes and say, "You are so fucking full of bullshit, Cullen." I want so badly to hear her say those words to me. Who cares if she has a breathing tube in place? Bella Swan could easily figure out a way to chew me a new asshole.

Chief Swan and I share a quiet vigil when we're both here; neither one of us are men of many words. Infrequently, he'll ask me my clinical opinion about what's going on with Bella. Fortunately, he has learned to trust me enough to advocate on Bella's behalf that he somewhat begrudgingly allows me to stay by her side. I'm pretty certain he can see just how much I love his daughter.

"Don't you dare let her go, Cullen. She's the only thing I have left. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, sir," I answer him quietly. That's about as heated and wordy as our conversations get, but I understand inherently that we're saying so much more than our words manage to convey.

In the deep of the night, when the lights go down and the night staff arrive, Charlie heads to the family lounge to lie down; he has a bad back from years on the job, and he can't sit in these torture chairs all day _and_ all night. It's in the moments like these, when it's just me and Bella and the beeps on her monitor, when I allow my despair to get the best of me.

"Bella, I cannot lose you. I just got you, and now you're going to leave me? Stay with me, dammit!"

I feel tears on my cheek. I don't really even care, because I'm helpless to stop them from falling. Soon, it's no longer a tear or two; I unleash a veritable torrent. Wracking sobs sweep over me as I envision a world without a Bella in it. Suddenly, living in such an absurd place seems ludicrous and wrong. I don't think I can go on if she doesn't, too. I make no specific promises to myself, but I am acutely aware of where my mind is going. I decide to close that door, and keep it buried along with the worst thoughts I've ever had.

Eventually, my tears slow, and then fade. I continue to talk to her, quietly, my voice raspy from crying. I go back to my soundtrack that I've been saying over and over again since she got here, so she will never forget how much she is loved and needed in the here and now, by so many people.

I have no idea what time it is, only that it is quiet in the hospital and dark outside. I fell asleep at some point, slumped over onto Bella's bed. I notice that Charlie is in the room again, quietly watching his sedated daughter.

I sit up and stretch—my muscles are killing me. I feel around in my pocket for Bella's chapstick, and put some on her lips while casually looking at the monitor. Her vitals are still all right, but I'm worried about her pressures. I suspect we'll need to get her some dopamine soon in order to keep her blood pressure high enough. I'm hoping that the steroids she's getting are kicking in to reduce the inflammation in her brain.

When I see Charlie in the corner of my eye, he is looking at me with fatigued sadness and surprise. I'm not exactly sure why he's surprised.

"You… love her," he says, almost as if it is a question.

I figure I might as well continue with the calm and frank method of communication that we've established.

"She's it for me, Chief Swan. I mean for her to survive this illness, and when she does, I intend to ask Bella to marry me. I can't live without her for another day."

"You're so sure?"

"I've never been more certain about anything in my life. This woman owns my soul."

"Well, _if_ she chooses you," he says to me warily, "then I will welcome you into the family. My girl never makes a mistake about the people she chooses. You just make sure she comes back to us so she can make that choice."

"That's the plan."

"All right, then."

We continue in our silence, while a veritable cacophony of noises fills Bella's room. The ventilator, with its whoosh, fills and empties her lungs with oxygen. The monitor over her head occasionally rings out alarms if her blood pressure dips too low. We can hear hospital pages from the hallway, even though her door is closed. Her IV pumps click and hum, beeping when they need more medication.

Bella's door swings open, surprising Charlie and me. I didn't see anything coming, but that's because it's Alice, and she's too small to see through the window in the door. I keep telling her she needs to put a bike flag on her scrubs so we know when she's coming, but she isn't too keen to take my advice.

"Charlie Swan, Edward Cullen!" she says with the confidence of a giant. "You both stink, and need to go wash up. The nurses complained to us, so Jasper and I are here to sit with Bella. Go eat some real food! Do what you need to do, but if either one of you come back here without a wet head or new clothing, you will be barred from entering."

Alice is a bossy little thing, which is absolutely perfect for an ICU nurse. I've always liked her, because you'd never guess that someone so tiny could scare a grown man. She has a huge set of balls, that girl.

I grin at her with a smug smile and don't even say a word. I've learned, over time, that this is the best approach. Apparently, Charlie knows this, too, and escapes the room right behind me.

"Do you know where to get a hot shower, Charlie?"

"Uh, yep. Family lounge."

"Got it. Do you want me to bring you a coffee or anything?"

"Naw."

"See you in a few."

"Mmmhmm."

I grab a clean pair of scrubs and some towels as I head to the showers. The minute the hot water touches my skin, I relax. It always feels so fucking good. I grab my bar of soap, and something in the scent reminds me of the last time I took a shower in here; Bella had joined me. I smile as I think about our daily shower routine. It is the perfect end to our days, and has the great side benefit that it makes post-sex clean up so very easy.

My cock wakes up, hoping to get a little something from Bella. Poor bugger has no idea he's stuck with a solo session. I've been so focused on Bella, I forgot all about him. All it takes is one quick memory of naked Bella, and he's in. Or up, rather.

Last time, Bella leaned over, and I took her from behind. God, I love it like that, when I can put my hands on her hips and get such good leverage. When she's bent over in front of me, I always make sure to work her G-spot before we fuck. I slide my thumb inside, and it's at the perfect angle to maximize pummeling that spot. Makes her come in seconds every time. Sometimes, I slide my cock in while she's still pulsing, and it feels so fucking incredible. She always lifts her arms up and presses them against the shower wall, so her back is arched. Between her anchor on the wall, and my grip on her hips, it's only a matter of time before we both blow.

I'm standing in the hot water, stroking my cock, thinking of Bella's perfect pussy. I'm used to fucking her at least once a day; it's been so long since I've been inside her. I can almost hear her screams and clipped words in my head. It's so cute, because she always tells me when she's going to come, but she never finishes the word. It's in this rushed, high voice, "I'm com… I'm com… in…" and trails off when the orgasm hits. My favorite is when she screams "FUCK!" as a really intense orgasm hits her.

Aw, who the hell am I trying to kid? My favorite is simply being inside her, as often as possible. I love her pussy almost as much as I love her. In fact, it's the memory of her beautiful little pussy that does me in. I was clearly hard up, because it only took me a minute or two before I came. Her cunt is a fucking legend, in my book.

_God, __I miss her so much_.

My happy memories have vanished, replaced by the knowledge that I didn't shower with her the last time I was home, because she wasn't there. She went home angry because I lost it in front of McCullough. I'm filled with rue as I see her face in my head, recalling her disappointment in me. I now understand that she was totally right, I need to let her face her own demons, not fight her battles for her. Lord knows she's more than capable of taking care of herself. The shower suddenly feels so empty and pointless without her bubble of cheer surrounding me.

I make myself a silent promise that the next time I get to shower with her, I'll make up for all the ways in which I let her down. I don't even allow myself to throw out the "yeah, but what if…" question.

I'm going to marry Bella Swan if it is the last thing I ever do, so that we can grow fat, old, and joyously happy together.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 14, 2010

**The Nightingale Journals**

_TRAGEDY_

On behalf of Bellaluna, I am informing all of her blog readers that our dear friend and colleague recently developed a case of meningitis that she caught while caring for a critically ill patient. At this time, she has been intubated and sedated while she fights to remain alive. Her condition is officially listed as "critical" by her physicians. We have every hope that her age and general level of health will allow her to pull through this illness unharmed, but only time will tell what her prognosis will be. Please keep her in your thoughts as she works to heal. Thank you.

POSTED FOR BELLALUNA AT 10:45 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTES: I am using fiction to fudge with reality a bit in this chapter; if Bella got meningitis at work, she wouldn't be admitted to the children's hospital, she'd go elsewhere to be treated. For the sake of flow, however, it just felt right to keep her at Seattle Children's. **

**The shower wank is just for succubus630. After all, it's totally mean to make Edward go without a wank for FIVE DAYS. Just saying.**

**I'm fortunate enough to be selected as the featured author at the Twi-Girls Next Door blog for the month of May. You can ask me questions that will be answered on the blog. Click on bit (DOT) ly (SLASH) fFMLQm for the formspring if you'd like to participate.**


	32. Forces of the Unseen

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: ****Thank you to the TwiGirls Next Door blog for their loving attention to _The Nightingale Journals_, and for highlighting my writing as Author of the Month. They selected this story for their readalong, which is happening tomorrow, May 21, at 7 PM Eastern. All the details are on their website: bit DOT ly SLASH iXTa8B. I am so appreciative of you, girls.**

**In a very eerie coincidence, one of my colleagues ended up with herpes encephalitis recently. It is similar to meningitis in some ways, because it can be deadly and develop swiftly. She will likely be hospitalized for several weeks and then will be home for three weeks on anti-viral meds. It's unnerving sometimes how life and fiction can so closely mimic one another.**

**Things I own: A copy of the book **_**Outlander**_**, which is my newest obsession. Cesca Marie is totally to blame. **

**Things I don't own: A McVitie's biccie wedding cake, that belonged to Prince William and Duchess Catherine. NGL, they totes scored brownie points with me for that. Also, I don't own anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who gives everything a naughty sparkle. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who saves me from my wretched Yankisms.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: FORCES OF THE UNSEEN**

I wash the evidence of my wank down the drain and quickly dry myself off. I'm anxious to get back to Bella. Ever since she's been sick, I feel an odd sense of being ill at ease when I'm away from her, as if she is somehow unprotected when I'm no longer by her side.

I swing by Starbucks before heading back to Bella's room. The only thing I truly require is more caffeine, so I can keep up my vigil. I can always sleep when I'm dead.

Alice is still sitting with Bella when I return. She motions me to her side. Standing up, she stands on her toes to reach my neck, and pulls me down toward her. I have no idea what she's doing. She buries her little nose into my hair.

"I'm just checking to make sure you actually washed it. You weren't gone very long."

"Jesus, Alice, I already have a mother! You wanna check inside my ears, too while you're at it?"

She just giggles at me. "Cullen, you're nothing more than a stubborn, pig-headed doctor. You forget that I truly _know_ you. Your prime directive right now is to sit next to Bella. My prime directive right now is to make sure you are in good enough shape to continue your worrying over Bella. That means showers, food and—wait for it—a thing called sleep."

"I'm a PICU doc. I don't believe in sleep."

She gives me a look.

"I can't believe you just said that. Then again, you're an adult, so I can't make any decisions for you; I have to allow you to make stupid decisions all on your own."

"And that, my dear little friend, is why you're such a good PICU nurse. Pragmatic to the end."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me. You should know this by now. I guess I'll turn the show over to you; I need to get my ass to work."

As she reaches the door, she stops and then looks at me thoughtfully.

"I _am_ really glad you two found each other, Edward. You know they broke the mold when they made Bella. You're the only man who's good enough for her."

"Thank you, Alice. I've certainly never wanted anyone else the way I've wanted her."

She lets loose a small sigh. "I know. Bring her back to us, okay?"

If I speak, my voice will crack, so I merely nod in agreement with her. She gives me a warm smile before she leaves.

I take a moment to look my patient over, and glance at her vital signs on the monitor. No real changes since I left. A small part of my brain is disappointed, but I'm also relieved that she's stable. While no change isn't a positive development, it's also not a negative development. All in all, I can accept that.

I let out a deep sigh. "Do you realize, Ms. Swan, that I have no one to give my crimples to anymore? What am I supposed to do with them now? I guess the point is moot, because I can't make crimples unless you're here to see them; I'm physically incapable of such an action without you."

I take a look in the bag my mother brought, and pull out the props for tonight's program.

"Bella, my girl, we have a busy agenda for your entertainment this evening. We have the fortune telling genius of Dr. Edward Cullen, revealing what your future holds. We have an entire playlist of music to listen to. We will likely have a kiss or two. We definitely have chapstick in there at regular intervals."

I stop what I'm saying and look around the room. Door is shut. No windows open. No one else in sight.

_Perfect._

I lift up the top of her gown and peek at her nipples. They're hidden under bandaids, but just seeing her tits makes me hard. I ought to be arrested, I'm such a perv. Somehow, I suspect that she would giggle at me if she could see what I'm doing. I ponder copping a feel, but decide against it. It would totally suck if I got caught in the act; kind of hard to explain that one away.

"Yeah, Swan, I'm ogling your tits. Sue me. I've been without them in my hands for more than a week. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You ought to know that. I only have so much strength; we both know I'm no superhero."

I bring my cup of coffee toward Bella's nose and waft it around, so she can smell it.

"Nectar of the gods, baby." I stop and take a sip, thinking. "I can't imagine what being unconscious will do to your wicked caffeine addiction. It's going to take you ages to match my level of daily consumption once you're better. I will enjoy making fun of your caffeine wussism. And before you correct me, yes, wussism is a word."

If anyone else were in here, listening to my comments, they would probably be aghast at my irreverent attitude. It's not that I am unaware of the seriousness of her illness; I know that all too well. I'm bringing levity to her on purpose, because she brings so much of it to my life every day. If I could classify her most endearing characteristic, it would be her wonderful sense of humor. Given a choice between laughter and tears, she will always choose laughter. It's only natural that I try to mimic that as I help her find her way home.

I decide to start with the fortune cookies. I open the cellophane bag as quietly as possible, so as not to startle her. It's incredible how touchy the human senses are when you are sedated and intubated. You can't speak, you can't breathe on your own, and you often have soft restraints on your wrists to keep you from extubating yourself or pulling out your IV lines. You are essentially tied down and unable to communicate. No wonder we need to sedate people when they are intubated—I can't even imagine having to go through that. Yet here is my girl, in that exact position. It eats at my soul every time I walk into the room, but I also know that she will handle this whole incident with so much more grace than I ever could. She's such a remarkable woman. I get to work, showing her just how remarkable she is.

"All right. It is fortunetelling time, Ms. Isabella Swan. The amazing Dr. Edward is about to reveal your innermost thoughts and secrets, for one night only. By special request, just for you!"

I chuckle at myself. I may be a dork, but I'm Bella's dork. I have it straight from the horse's mouth that she loves my dork, so I'm giving it to her. Again, anything to get her well and keep her anchored in the present with everyone who loves her.

"I remember the first time we had Chinese together, on the PICU. When we got to the fortune cookies, I told you it was bad luck if you didn't save the fortune. We laughed, because we both have the same superstition when it comes to fortunes. I decided to get an entire bag of fortune cookies to share with you now, and I promise to save them for your canister at home. It seems to me like you could use some uplifting messages."

I deftly take a cookie, and crack it open. Carefully removing the fortune so as not to rip it in half—that would be a bad omen if ever there was one—I pull it out, reading it aloud.

"_Others look up to you_."

"Well, that's certainly true, so it isn't really a fortune as much as a statement of fact. That's all right; you need reminding from time to time, my modest girl."

"_You will live long in happiness and joy_."

"Oh, I like that one. Definitely gets to be on the top of the pile."

"_You will relax in the lap of luxury_."

"Good for you, Bella. Interesting. We'll have to see how that particular fortune plays out, won't we?" I lean over and give her a small forehead kiss. She's particularly fond of those, even if she isn't aware that she's receiving them.

"_Others see you as a wise person_."

"Again, fact, not fortune, but still nice to be reminded. I think aside from my parents, you're the wisest person I know. I'm sure when we get to be their age, you'll be the wisest person I've ever met."

"_Good health will be yours for a long time_."

"Yep, love that one. Top of the pile."

"_The current year will bring you much happiness_."

"I'm on board with this one, too. Very on board."

I lean over and talk directly into her ear. "You want to know why? Because when you get better—and you _will_ get better—I'm going to treat you like a princess, and then I'm going to marry you. I'm telling you this now, so your subconscious can begin to break down any barriers that you might intend to put up on this subject. A year from now, I want to wake up next to you in the morning, see my ring on your hand, and know that life is exactly the way it's supposed to be."

I open the last remaining cookie for her.

"_You and your mate will be happy in your life together_."

I squeeze her hand, making no further comments. That one speaks all for itself.

I sit in silence with Bella, simply being in her presence and offering up my own in return. It's not unlike the wonderful companionable silence we sometimes share. We don't need any words in those moments, only the knowledge that we're both sharing the same space.

Like many of my colleagues, I've never been much of a religious, or even spiritual, man. I was raised in a household ruled by science. I've prayed exactly once in my life, just to see what would happen. It was like my own little experiment, but I was admittedly underwhelmed with the results. As I sit here now, watching Bella's chest rise and fall as dictated by her ventilator, I'm suddenly no longer completely sure of my agnostic convictions. In all honesty, I've never questioned them before. I know, however, that in this strange, surreal moment, I am utterly powerless and without control, and it scares the living shit out of me. For a flicker of a moment, my mind opens up to a new kind of possibility and I seize it.

_W__homever might be listening out there, please just let Bella stay where she needs to be. I swear, this isn't a wholly selfish request—there are so many people who rely upon her. Her dad, her patients, her colleagues—you have to see that nothing good will come from taking her now. I beg you—let her live. She is needed. She is valued. And she is so loved. That's all I ask, please let her stay. Thank you._

**~xXx~**

During one of my silent stretches of sitting at Bella's bedside, I watch her chest rising and falling in time with the ventilator's delivered breaths. Her mouth looks dry, so I reach over to apply some chapstick. When I'm finished, I take a moment to simply appreciate the shape of her lips. She's so beautiful, even when she is sick as a dog with meningitis.

It occurs to me that seldom do we have the opportunity to be reminded how precious life is. We take it for granted on a daily basis, until faced with the possibility of losing someone we love. Bella's getting sick made me stop and realize that there are no guarantees for a long, happy life. Things can go badly any day, any time, to anybody. No one is immune.

I think back to the things that originally attracted me to Bella—her scent, that ass, the long neck. Very quickly, however, I noticed so many other attributes that made her unique and special. Yeah, she's fucking hot, but I got beyond that pretty fast. When I was just an idiot second year resident, she never made me feel stupid. Even then, she treated me with respect and kindness. In fact, I was awed at just how nice she was to me, even though I was a stupid peon on the totem pole.

When I was a third year resident, I worked with her more closely, and got to appreciate her incredible clinical skills. She's so fucking talented at what she does, she makes it all seem so easy and natural. I know that nothing could be farther from the truth. It takes a really good nurse to make a fumbling resident look good, but she always did her best to help us out.

When I became a fellow, it finally dawned on me how amazing Bella Swan truly is. She's hysterically, drily funny, smart as hell, incredibly talented and skilled, and genuinely kind and thoughtful. Those are all great attributes, but of course, there's more to her than that. She is the hottest, most naturally beautiful woman I've ever known, and she really has no clue how alluring she is. I notice every fucking time the stupid med students ogle her, and it makes me want to smack them on the side of their heads.

_Bella Swan is mine, you freaking n00b idiots!_

Someone needs to set those losers straight. In the hierarchy of physicians, anyone less educated than you is a loser, and anyone more educated than you is to either be feared or revered, or sometimes both.

Lying there on the bed, with a machine breathing for her, and IVs whirring drugs into her veins, she is still so perfect. The silence makes her seem angelic. Her hair is messy from being shifted all over her bed, she's wearing a heinous hospital nightgown designed to make you look as bad as possible, and hasn't had a bath for over a week, but she is still so stunning. I shake my head in wonder once again how this phenomenal woman is mine. I claim that ownership readily and often, having no qualms about territoriality.

I allow myself to picture her years from now. I wonder if she'll be gray early, or late. I imagine where her wrinkles will start to appear, and I know they'll be around her mouth, because she smiles so often and so freely. No matter what she looks like, I'm certain that she'll still take my breath away. I even venture a guess as to what she'll look like when she's pregnant. I feel a rush of pride in that thought, knowing how fucking honored I would be to have her carry my child. I've always known I want to have kids, but somehow, thinking of Bella as their mother makes it so real, and I can honestly see that happening. She's an incredible nurse, but if there is one role she was born to fill, it's that of a mother. I'm surprised to find that the thought arouses me, and I feel a little lecherous about that. If she didn't happen to have a grave disease and be incredibly ill right now, I would totally be all over her, showing her just how much I want her to fulfill that important role.

This line of thinking does make me want her acutely, and I feel the pain of her physical absence. I want her so much; I need her so much it's killing me. Instead, I do the only thing I can—I lean over and kiss her with my bare lips and grasp her hand in mine.

**~xXx~**

I hear an alarm that beeps into my chaotic pattern of sleep, and I startle awake with a gasp. Though sedated, Bella jerks in response to my loud utterance. I look around frantically for the noise's source. It's Bella's oxygen saturation level—the monitor says it's only 56%. My heart starts to race. Her ventilator isn't alarming, so if she's genuinely having issues breathing, I would expect that to be lighting up like a Christmas tree. I search for the O2 sat probe, and see it sitting on her bed, no longer connected to Bella. It had been wrapped around one of her fingers, so I must have accidentally bumped it off in my sleep. Her hand is red from where I was holding it tightly as I dreamt. I quickly silence the alarm and then place the probe on a different finger.

I don't want to fall asleep again, so I pull out my iPod and mini speakers. I go straight to her playlist, so she can hear all the songs that remind me of her. As I'm selecting it, I get an idea.

I decide tell her a story, with a soft, soothing voice, before I play on the song.

"Bella, you know how much I love Cloud Cult, so it's only natural that I included them on your playlist. There's a specific song from their new album that I listen to before every shift, and I put it on your playlist, too. It's called _Forces of the Unseen_. I read an interview with the lead singer, and he explained why he wrote that song. Apparently, a fan of theirs had a traumatic brain injury. He wasn't expected to survive, but he proved them all wrong, and he did live. When he was struggling to regain all the functions he lost, the only thing he could remember were lyrics to songs by Cloud Cult. He used those words to spur his recovery and regain his use of speech. He wrote to the band to tell him about his unique story, and they were so inspired, they wrote a song for him.

"I listen to it before every shift because it reminds me that the mind is the most powerful tool we have in healing sick patients. There are always the ones who survive when we're convinced they're going to die. And there are always patients who surprise us when they die, because they shouldn't have, based upon their condition. I believe these differences must come down to the mind, the will to keep going, despite the difficult fight ahead of them. There's no question, dying is easy, even when it isn't fast or pain-free. Living? Recovery after an illness? That's the hard part.

"While I've been incredibly worried about you, Bella, every time I listen to that song since you've been ill, I'm reminded of what a tough, strong, tenacious woman you are. If anyone can look death in the face and laugh at it, it's you. I half expect you to throw a urologic ruler at Death and give it the infamous Swan stink eye as a challenge.

"You have so much left to accomplish in your life. People have plans for you. Do what you need to do, but come back. I'm waiting for you."

I turn on the song, and speak the lyrics into her ear as it plays. I want her to absorb the powerful meaning behind them.

The interesting thing about music is that the human heart will regulate its beat in time with the tune that's playing. Studies have shown that some patients with slow heartbeats can benefit from energetic music being played for them. True enough, Bella's heart rate increases in time with the song, just as I suspected it would.

**~xXx~**

I must have dozed off again, because I jump awake when my phone rings. I fumble through my pockets with shaky hands. It's McCarty.

"Yeah?"

"The meningitis kid."

I don't say anything, I just wait for him to continue.

"His fever broke, and the rash stopped progressing. We think he's going to make it."

"Are you fucking kidding me? That's incredible!" I let out a huge gust of air I didn't realize I had been holding in.

"Well, his leg is probably toast, but yeah, he's going to live."

"Thank you for letting me know, Em. That's awesome."

"It bodes well for Sw—"

I cut him off abruptly. "Let's not tempt fate, okay? Leave it unsaid."

"I'm happy to, Cullen."

_Thank fucking Christ, Bella Swan just might beat this after all._

I don't think I've ever been happier to hear that a patient is going to live. The kid was so sick we literally watched him deteriorate in front of our eyes, but he's going to make it. That's just fucking fantastic. It makes me realize how infrequently things go our way; I'm so used to delivering bad news to parents.

It allows me to hold out hope that my girl will have a similar outcome.

**~xXx~**

I lean over to give her a forehead kiss, since her lips are unavailable to me at the moment, lost around Bella's breathing tube. I speak softly into her ear, "You might think this is a sneaky way to get me out of your life, but you know you'll always be _my_ Bella."

When I sit back down, my eyes naturally glance at her monitor. Her heart rate, blood pressure, and respiratory rate have all increased. I shift my gaze to her beautiful face and see her big eyes open and staring straight at me. I'm so shocked my heart literally skips a beat. I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes it back, however weak her response may be.

I can't manage more than a husky whisper chased by a beaming smile.

"You came back to me."

**END NOTE: All the fortunes I chose were selected from my fortune jar, because I am a dork like that.**

**The Cloud Cult story is real, by the way. The lead singer, Craig Minowa, told it at a recent concert at First Avenue in Minneapolis.**

**Lyrics to **_**Forces of the Unseen**_**, by Cloud Cult:**

_**We said, "There's nothing wrong."**_

_**We put our strong face on.**_

_**And go right through it.**_

_**Please say it can't be done.**_

_**Cuz that's just fuel for me to just prove this yeah, you'll see.**_

_**Cuz that's just fuel for me to just do this, yeah, you'll see.**_

_**We have so much energy that you can't see.**_

_**We'll blow right through it.**_

_**Please say you can't help me.**_

_**Cuz that's just fuel for me to just prove this, yeah, you'll see.**_

_**Cuz that's just fuel for me to just do this, yeah, you'll see.**_

_**I'm gonna make it through, you'll see.**_

_**I swear I'll prove you wrong.**_

_**You haven't seen the last of me.**_

_**I am way too strong.**_

_**It's not impossible, you'll see.**_

_**You've never been inside my head:**_

_**Ten billion burning suns and belief in a strength that can raise the dead.**_

_**It's the warmth when you're next to me.**_

_**It's the bright white light of a fevered dream.**_

_**It's the storm in your eyes. **_

_**It's in the roots of the tree:**_

_**The underestimated power of the forces of the unseen. **_


	33. Every Breath You Take

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: Reader EmersonRead tells me: **_**"Don't you know you need to add **_**in bed**_** to the end of your fortune? It makes them win/win every time :)"**_** HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS? Thank you so much for enlightening me. **

**I posted pics of my inspiration for some of TNJ's locations, like the supply closet, the call room, the dictation room, etc. You can see them on my LJ page (kimpy0464 DOT livejournal DOT com) if you're interested.**

**Things I own: A brand new Kindle. It makes me incredibly happy. **

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, whose sweet endeavors are just as sweet as she is. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who puts up with me, even though I'm just a Yank. Ladyeire72 keeps me on track if I dare to get too dry and boring, and I love her for taking one for the team so selflessly. Oh, and she claimed surly/morose bastardward for her own (Word spell check doesn't think bastardward is a word, but I beg to differ).**

_**Attention: There is a graphic lemon that includes anal at the end of the chapter. If you don't wish to read it, just skip past the part that looks like this: ~XXX~**_

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE **

**EPOV**

Her wide-open eyes are filled with fear, and it hits me like a hard blow to the gut. I instantly seek to reassure her.

"Hey, you, welcome back!" I beam at her. "You've been out for a while. Do you remember that you have meningitis?"

She shakes her head, which makes her more aware of her breathing tube. Her anxiety is evident as she struggles against it—she coughs and fights the vent, which instantly starts alarming. I grab her hands and try to explain what's going on.

"Bella, you're intubated, so the vent is breathing for you. I know it must be scary, but you're all right. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

As I speak to her, I press the nurse call light.

I put my hands over her ears to steady her head and stop her struggles. "Shh, baby. It's okay. Just let the machine help you. You're getting better, which is why you're starting to struggle. Don't worry, I'll have your nurse get you some Ativan."

She shakes her head at me, adamant. Tears are welling up in her eyes.

"What is it, love? You don't want any medication?"

Her response is a jumble of movements, and I can't tell if she's trying to say yes or no. It kills me to see the panic in her face.

I give her a forehead kiss, and that seems to calm her down.

The nurse comes in, and I ask her to give Bella a sedative. I poke my head out into the hall and see Charlie sitting in a chair, looking out the window.

"Charlie! She opened her eyes!"

He reaches me in just a few strides and bounds into the room.

"Thank god!"

She struggles with the tube again when she sees her dad, shaking her head back and forth.

"Why's she fighting? Is she in pain?" The look on his face is anguished.

"She's still kind of foggy and confused, so she probably doesn't understand why the breathing tube is there."

"But she's okay?"

"We'll have to see how it goes as she recovers, but the fact that she woke up so soon is a very good sign. The nurse is going to give her some more sedation, which will make her sleepy. I just wanted to make sure you saw her when she was awake."

I watch Chief Swan kiss his daughter, pushing her hair back so it's out of her eyes. For a man with such a gruff, no-nonsense exterior, you can see the soft spot he has for his daughter. It makes me wonder if someday I'll be just as protective over a little girl of my own. My heart goes out to him.

I step out of the room to give him some privacy with his girl. Once in the hallway, I send off some quick text messages to everyone important, including the PICU charge nurse. They've all been frantic for updates, and I haven't had anything new to tell them for days. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for my phone to start to ringing constantly. My 'call waiting' tone keeps pinging in my ear as I'm talking to someone else.

Despite the good news that she is no longer unconscious, I'm very aware of the after effects Bella might experience, and it does little to make me feel better. Some patients end up having mood swings, personality changes, or profound learning difficulties that affect them for the rest of their lives. Approximately 1 in 12 will have these serious side effects; the patients who have meningococcal septicemia tend to have the worst outcomes. Losing one's hearing, or having some degree of hearing loss, is also very common. She could have permanent lung damage, or even kidney damage, although all her lab tests indicate her kidney function has been fine. I try to push my thoughts of long term side effects to the back of my head and merely focus on the fact that Bella has gotten well enough for me to be able to worry about such things. Just 12 hours ago, I had no idea if she would live through this at all.

Just because she's conscious and more alert doesn't mean we can leave the hospital tomorrow. She can't be disconnected from the ventilator right away. Her lungs need to heal and then we need to wean her off gradually, making her lungs work harder to breathe on their own. The minimum amount of time before we get her extubated would be another day or two. She has a long recovery ahead of her, even once she is discharged from the hospital. As much as I can't wait to kiss those perfect lips, I need to try to calm myself down and continue to be patient.

Easier said than done.

Dr. Santiago drops by to assess Bella, having heard that she's conscious. Bella's nurse waits to give her the sedation until Dr. Santiago is finished.

We move out to the hallway and I grill her about what she found.

"Well?"

"I'm encouraged by her responses; I didn't expect her to be so strong at this point. I'm not sure if the hearing will come back or not; we'll just have to wait and see."

"Wait, her hearing? Excuse me?"

"Yes, she has almost complete hearing loss."

_That must be why Bella was shaking her head so adamantly—she couldn't tell what was going on._

"How much _can _she hear?"

"It's hard to tell, because she isn't completely lucid. We'll continue to assess it as time goes on."

_If the hearing loss is permanent, Bella won't be able to work as an ICU nurse any more. Jesus._

It never occurred to me that Bella might lose her hearing. I mean, I _know_ that it is a distinct possibility; it's a very common side effect. I'm not sure why I didn't consider it a real threat.

I slump down in an empty chair outside of her room. Shit, this is bad. Hearing is everything. How would she ever deal with the world if she can't hear anything? I feel a tear start to sting the corner of my eye, because I'm so angry at the injustice of it all. It's so unfair that Bella has to deal with this. She's the best person I know—honest, kind, wise, loving, thoughtful—so why her? It makes no sense.

"Edward?"

_Shit. Charlie_.

"Uh, hey, Charlie. You got to talk to Bella?"

He nods his head stiffly.

"Hearing loss?"

It isn't his words that move me, per se. He only said two words in a row, after all. No, it's the tone of his voice that tears at me. It sounds like he just got punched in the stomach, all tight and raspy, and he can't recover from it. He's lying on the ground, beaten. The lines in his face are amplified by his sadness.

"Oh, um… yeah. Hearing loss can be a common side effect of meningitis. Sometimes, it can be permanent, but it can also improve over time. It could last for days, months, years. No one knows."

"Aw, hell."

"Yeah, that about sums it up. I'm so sorry."

**~xXx~**

My girl proved us all wrong, of course.

She was stronger than I could ever be, dealing with her hearing loss as if it was a momentary set back. She told me that there's no use in getting upset about it, because that wouldn't change a thing. It's either permanent, or it isn't, and she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Not surprisingly, Bella was determined to get extubated as soon as possible. She hated her tube, especially when she needed to be suctioned. It fucking broke my heart the way her eyes would tear up every time. She fought tooth and nail to get us to wean the vent more quickly. Naturally, her doctors wanted to err on the side of caution, to help her heal more fully. In the end, it didn't happen as soon as Bella wanted, but sooner than it could have. She got by with some extra oxygen via a nasal cannula for a few days, but got rid of that, too.

Moral of the story? Never underestimate Bella Swan.

She's getting more lucid by the day, which is great, so she can interact with her friends. I got her a small white board, so she can ask questions or make her needs known. Her grasp is weak, but at least she is able to write and communicate. True to her nature, she just soldiers on with her hearing loss, adjusting to this new reality, regardless of whether it's temporary or permanent. I try to imagine myself in her shoes, and I know I would become a surly, morose bastard. Bella just smiles, grateful for the visitors she receives.

I've been in and out of Bella's room for several days now, as more people come to visit her. ICU rules are no more than two people in a room at a time, so it's a constant game of musical chairs. I'm almost feeling a little bit extraneous at this point, to be honest. I'm trying not to be pouty about it, but I really miss my girl.

It only took Bella about a day to start hounding me about sex. She was critically ill, intubated, unconscious, the whole nine yards, and she thinks I'm going to have my wicked way with her? No fucking way. As much as I want her, I have to wait until she's better.

One night, as we sit alone in her room, I feel her squeeze my hand. I look up at her, and see she's studying me. Her curiosity turns into a mischievous smile, and she quickly scribbles something on her white board.

**KISS. ME.**

She looks at me with a very determined face. She taps on the board, as if to emphasize the words that are written there.

I shake my head. That's the last thing she needs right now; she's still not breathing at 100% yet. As a doctor, I know that she needs to rest, so she can heal and hopefully get her hearing back. I try to grab the board from her to write a response, but she throws it across the room.

Unaware of how loud to make her volume, she screams out, "YES!" She isn't a woman who takes no for an answer very easily.

My eyes must have gone all wonky, because she starts to giggle in response. Her giggles are so infectious; they're completely irresistible to me. I'm drawn in, and start chuckling myself as I walk over to pick up the board. At least this is good practice for when we have toddlers of our own.

She balls up her fists, yelling "KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!" She's trying hard not to giggle the entire time. I'm concerned that someone will come in to check out what's going on. Namely, her father.

I feel her hands on my shirt. She literally drags me over to her face, planting her lips squarely over mine.

As I said before: Never underestimate Bella Swan.

It's been weeks since I've been able to touch Bella, and the kiss? I can't even describe it. It covers so many different things. It's so warm and inviting. Her lips are always so soft. I almost forgot what her little tongue is like. She has a tendency to dart it into my mouth when I least expect it. Unlike her normal kisses, this one is rather frenzied. It's almost as if she fears she won't get one again. At this point, I'm not going to argue with her, because her effect on me is positively electric. I feel her hands in my hair, and she pulls me closer. I have to bend my elbows to stop myself, or I'll end up crushing her.

_God, it would be so easy to fuck her right now. _

I want to whisper in her ear just how badly I want to be in her, but I remember that she wouldn't be able to hear me anyway.

When she shifts from asking to begging me to have sex with her, it nearly kills me. It's so fucking hard to deny her, because I always want her. It's been weeks and I'm dying. Being the sly, wicked little female that she is, I feel her warm palm rubbing over my hard cock. I react with my body before I have time to engage my brain. Placing my palm over hers, I press her against my cock even harder. When I hear my moan, something inside me clicks, and I realize what we're doing. With a deep sigh, I remove her hand from my cock.

Her face looks furious, and she writes insistently on her white board: _Fuck me, Edward. PLEASE._

I tell her that she's too weak right now, and she throws the board across the room again. I go to retrieve it, and set it back on her bed. Her arms are still crossed and she refuses to look at me. I know I'm right, so I don't back down, even though my cock is throwing hissy fits in return.

**BPOV**

I find it nearly impossible to accurately describe the foggy veil of unconsciousness. It's definitely not a dream state; there are moments that break through with a semblance of clarity, but there is no timeline that connects them into a whole. There are noises, lights, and other things that stimulate my senses on some level, but they're nothing more than blips on a radar screen. There was only one thing I knew for certain, as if it was written into my cellular structure: Edward was always there. I knew it without really being aware of it. As I try to rekindle my lost moments, I'm aware of his beautiful voice, even though I can't make sense of the actual words. The content was irrelevant—the fact is that he was there by my side. Somehow, in some way, he was always coaxing me back, so I knew where to go when my mind returned to my body.

I have a new and deep empathy for what I have subjected my patients to in the past. Suctioning? I have no words. It's a horrific experience. You feel as though you're drowning and have no way to escape—even your hands are tied down. You just have to sit there and take it, and you don't even have a way to communicate how torturous the experience is. Being sedated makes you feel oddly apathetic, but there is an underlying fear in that apathy. You can't remember what the problem is, but you are still vaguely aware that there _is_ a problem. It's disconcerting, but you don't really care that it is.

I'm trying to focus on what people are saying, but I feel like I have cotton stuffed into my ears. Everything is so muted. It occurs to me that everyone sounds like the adults in the Peanuts cartoon—that unique blend of wordless, meaningless, monotonous speech. On top of that, my ears have been ringing non-stop. I've been plagued by sleepiness and headaches as I recover, and it's been a huge adjustment for me. I hate having to rely upon meds for the headaches, but I've never experienced pain like this before, either. They're a total bitch, and I can't deal with the pain all on my own yet. The doctors assure me it will get better over time. I know these are side effects of the meningitis, but it's exceedingly challenging to be patient enough to see if they will go away. It's annoying, and I want it to be gone _now._

There is nothing I can do to heal any faster, and I'm not going to know the outcome for a long time. The best thing to do is cross that bridge when I come to it. I have no intention of becoming a sourpuss. My life's motto has always been "you can either laugh or cry, so choose to laugh." Well, then, I'd best get to laughing. I know that I will likely have to do some rehab, and it will take me months to fully recover. If I look at the alternative, however—mainly, death—months of rehab doesn't seem so bad after all.

During my recovery, I experience good days and bad days. When things are going well, I assume that I'm getting better, but every now and then, I encounter a day where I'm too tired to do anything. It's a constant reminder of the meningitis that I'm so anxious to overcome. Because of the issues with my ears, my balance has been affected, and I trip over my own two feet constantly. I won't be able to get back to work until I can move around safely, and can hear a child's heartbeat with a stethoscope and all the varied alarms on our equipment. They all use a different pitch, and some I won't be able to hear at all, at least right now.

As if none of that is bad enough, I'm still having problems with my memory. I try to remain optimistic, but some days, I just want to bury myself under the covers. The only bright spot in all of this tragic mess is Edward. His beautiful face keeps me moving forward.

One memory that remains clear is watching Edward laugh, since I'm unable to hear it yet. I had to beg him to kiss me, but he refused. I started harassing him for that kiss by shouting out for one, and ended up in a fit of giggles. When he laughs, his Adam's apple bobs up and down, as if it's calling to me, needing me to pay attention to it. It's incredibly appealing. In fact, it makes me want to lick his neck, right there, so I can feel it with my tongue. I lean over and do just that. I can feel the vibration of his gasp and smile to myself. Hearing or no, I can still take his breath away. At least there are some things that I have the power to control.

Knowing that I have his attention, I slide my hand over his crotch, finding him ready for me.

_Hello, Mr. Parka. I've missed you, too. _

When I think about how long it's been since we were together, it makes me ache. He moves my hand away, and my instant response is to cry. I hate that. He writes on my board, "You're still too weak. Not yet." I'm really good at throwing the board across the room when he says shit like that. I don't care if I'm behaving like a two year old. I can have sex if I want to, when I want to. Saying that I'm too weak is just a pussy answer.

I figure out that I fucking hate the white board when my dad walks into the room one time and sees my writing on it.

_Fuck me, Edward. PLEASE._

Yeah. Kill me now.

**~xXx~**

_**Four Weeks Later**_

My hearing is gradually improving, thank god, but progress is slow. They still ring constantly, and it still sounds like there is cotton in my ears, but certain pitches are becoming easier to pick up. It's more like people are whispering, so I can't discern the details of what they're saying. Dr. Santiago says this is a good sign that I might recover most of my hearing, but it's always a wait and see process. When Edward and I watch movies, I have him use the subtitles function, and it's actually been working nicely; it makes me feel like less of a gimp.

Edward has been encouraging me to write down my feelings and experiences as a means of recovery, so I can look back and see how far I've come. It's incredibly frustrating, because it's difficult to concentrate for any length of time. I'm constantly searching for the right words. Still, I plug away, because I know it's good for my brain, and it's a therapeutic exercise. When Edward gets home from work, he reads through what I've written and helps me to edit my words. He's gone so far above and beyond duty in caring for me through this whole episode—I can't imagine a better man to have at your side if you have the misery of getting meningitis. Who am I trying to kid? He's an incredible man to have by your side no matter what. He's definitely a keeper.

When my dad and Edward first approached me with idea of moving into Carlisle and Esme's home in order to recuperate, the idea made me very uncomfortable. Like most nurses, I hate being taken care of. I'm a miserably bad patient. I'm used to being independent, but it's like I've become a toddler all over again.

As Edward once told me, where Esme Cullen is concerned, there is no such thing as the word "no." Thus, I am now holed up in the Mercer Island Cullen Rehab Compound. I'm just going to say that if you have to take time to get rehabilitated, then having Esme Cullen care for you is pretty freaking awesome. She makes me laugh constantly. I didn't see it before, but much of Edward's amazing sense of humor stems from her. She gently teases my gimpy ways and keeps me going. She's a born caretaker, just like me, and she has never once made me feel as though I am a burden. She's officially taken on the role of mother, and I didn't realize how much I had been missing my mom's nurturing presence. I can't even explain how much it means to me that Edward's mom is willing to fulfill that role. I'm grappling with how his family can be nearly as important to me as he is; to lose Edward would be to lose them, and I can't even go there. It's way too painful a thought to ponder.

I was a little surprised when Edward suggested that we both relocate to his parent's house, even though it made my stomach flutter happily. I've been a little clingy since I've been discharged; I feel like I need his reassuring presence as much as possible. The thought of being separated from him while he's at work _and_ at home was too much for me to bear. The minute he saw my tears over the matter, he resolved to stay with me. I really, truly love that man.

Darcy and Elizabeth sleep with me when I'm relaxing at the house. It's as if they know I'm not well, and their duty is to take care of me. They're very protective, even. They give Edward—Edward, who they adore!—a suspicious look whenever he sits next to me. It doesn't matter what I'm doing—reading, writing, watching a movie—they're planted on either side of me. If I get up to go to the bathroom, they escort me. If I stumble, they lunge to break my fall. They're such gentle creatures, but I never expected that, because they're huge.

I take them for a walk every day with Esme, to work on my coordination and build up some strength. I find the fresh air helps a little with my headaches, too. Each day, we can go a little bit farther. They're animals that need to run, but they don't complain at all when I need to take things slowly. The only time they get picky is when they're ready for their walkies—Darcy always tugs at my sleeve in an effort to get me to stand up, and Elizabeth sits right in front of me, puts her head on my knee, and gives me her sad eyes. That's usually all it takes to get me going. They can lay on the guilt pretty well. If Edward and I ever have kids, I'm doomed.

**~xXx~**

**EPOV**

Darcy and Elizabeth are on the couch with us, both trying in vain to lie on top of Bella. This is no easy task, as they weigh about 90 pounds apiece. Ever since we relocated to my parent's house so that my mother could help with Bella's rehabilitation, the dogs follow Bella everywhere. It's as if they can sense that she needs extra help. The minute we go to bed at night, the dogs are there, one on either side of her. I'd find it endearing if it didn't encroach upon my territory. Clearly, I need to pee all over her to mark my alpha status. I always end up chasing them away and shutting my door so that I can have Bella all to myself.

We're channel surfing. Well, I'm channel surfing, and Bella is cuddling with me in her favorite blanket. It's an aimless gesture; just something to occupy myself with physically while my brain is elsewhere. I get to the local public access cable channel and stop, mesmerized by what I see. It's a woman who is selling all-natural, homeopathic remedies. Well, officially she's doing an informational segment on homeopathic cures. However, since it takes place in her store, and she is showing off the bottles as she talks about the remedies, I'm a bit skeptical about the informational nature of the program. A nudge in the ribs from Bella brings me out of my musing moment.

"What?" I ask knowingly.

"Public access cable is _never_ an option. You're working on losing your remote control privileges, buddy."

I laugh. "As a medical professional, it's very important for me to learn as much as possible about alternative therapies. I'm not channel surfing; I'm doing research."

"Let's see how great your research skills are when you have a remote control up your ass, Cullen."

I laugh at her annoyance. It's so much fun to tease her in insidious ways. More than anything, though, her feistiness proves to me that she is finally healing after her long ordeal. It's as if she's been slowly thawing out, much in the same way that the ice gradually melts off a body of water. Too slowly to notice it actually occurring, but you see the evidence every day. Small changes eventually add up to bigger ones, until finally, it all looks the way it's supposed to. Having nearly lost her, I'm absolutely fine with slow. Progress is progress, so I'm sure as hell not going to be picky about its pace.

To appease my girl and help her understand just how much her improving health means to me, I turn the TV off. I scoop her up off of the couch and make my way to our room.

"Speaking of up your ass, that's the best idea you've had all day, Swan."

**~XXX~**

"Fuck, are you serious? Praise the lord!"

"Since when are you religious?"

"Since you said 'up the ass…'. I've been waiting for this for a long time."

"Swan, you've been incredibly sick, and then recuperating. I wasn't going to impede your healing process by humping you the minute you were off the ventilator."

"Cullen, need I remind you that I've been insisting for weeks that sex is not off the table for someone who is recuperating from meningitis? Yeah, don't hump me the second I get extubated. You need to wait at least 5-10 minutes."

"Come on, you know I'm not going to use you like that."

"But I've been begging you to use me! I miss you. I was out for a long time, totally unsexed. It's just wrong, I tell you, WRONG!"

She's trying to imitate Cartman's voice, but failing miserably.

"No, seriously, Edward… it made me feel like you might not want me anymore. It's hard to explain, and my brain is too muddied up to come up with the right words. Knowing that there was a chance that we might not ever have sex again makes me want to have it at least once a day for the rest of our lives, if not more often than that."

"Baby, I know what you mean. I feel the same way, but it felt kind of creepy asking for sex once you got out of the hospital."

"You never have to ask, Cullen! Plus, I was telling you that I wanted you—like every second of the day!"

"But your judgment was impaired, Bella. Give me a break here."

"The hell it was! Just because I couldn't hear very well doesn't mean my judgment was impaired!"

I throw her onto my bed and chase the dogs out of the room. The last thing I want is a dog's nose up my ass when I'm having sex. When I turn back toward the bed, Bella is conveniently on all fours. She's looking at me over her shoulder, and it makes me want to be in her STAT.

Without saying a word, I crawl on my hands and knees over to her. I easily yank her pants down (praise the lord for those stretchy pants), and she straightens out her knees so I can remove them all the way. Once I'm finished, she whips her shirt off and starts to work on mine. Clearly, Bella's a little horny right now, and I chuckle at her zealous pursuit of my cock. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course.

"Laugh all you want, but that cock is mine as soon as it has no clothing covering it up."

Good thing scrubs come off easily. I'm already hard and wanting her, and her eyes go wide when she sees my cock spring free.

Once again, she scrambles to get on all fours. I lean over her, planting a kiss on the small of her back. She wiggles her hips to signal her impatience; I still take my time. I want this to be really good for her. I kiss my way up her spine, cupping my hands over her tits. When I reach the base of her neck, I circle my tongue over her skin while I rub my hard cock between her cheeks. She arches her back into me, desperately trying to increase the friction. I move my hands to her hips, gripping them tightly, and allow my cock to slide easily into her wet pussy. I'm rewarded with a lovely gasp.

"Fuck! You feel so good. I've missed you so much."

I kiss the base of her neck again. "You stole my words, baby."

Impatient with the epic slow pace that I've set, she starts slamming herself into me. I laugh at her once again.

"Is something wrong, Bella?" I smile against her back.

"Fuck me, dammit!"

"Well, my erect penis is in your vagina, ma'am. I believe that's known as fucking."

"Cullen! You aren't even remotely funny!"

I laugh at her annoyance, but I reach over to grab the lube from my end table. I gently spread some over her pucker, relishing the moan she releases.

"You like that?"

"Yes," she replies in a tight voice.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Cullen!"

"Hey, I'm just checking."

I innocently slide my thumb inside her, and earn another moan. It's so easy to get her going, it's criminal.

I lean over, whispering in her ear, "Bella Swan, you have the body of a goddess. You have no idea how much I love fucking you." I emphasize my point with a hard and deep thrust. "God, I missed this so much."

"Yes. Oh! Yes."

She swivels her hips so that I'm bumping up against her G-spot, and she unravels for me shortly afterwards. I guess I wasn't the only one who missed this.

I stop thrusting while she comes down from her orgasm.

"Goddamn, Edward, that was so perfect."

I don't answer her, I just spank her ass.

"Oh!"

_Spank!_

"Do you want something?"

_Spank!_

"What?"

_Spank!_

"If you're a naughty girl, you don't get what you want, Bella."

_Spank!_

With my other hand, I weave my fingers into her hair and give it a gentle tug. She still gets headaches, and I don't want to make it worse for her.

"Oh! Fuck!"

I give her another tug.

"If you want something, you have to beg for it."

_Spank!_

"Fuck!"

_Spank!_

"I already did that. What do you want to beg me for?"

_Spank!_

"Please, Edward. Please!"

_Tug._

"Please what?"

No answer. Just a deep moan.

_Spank!_

"Please what, Bella?"

"Please, please… please… fuck me in the ass. I need it, so much."

_Spank!_

"You want your gorgeous, pink ass to be fucked? Is that it?"

"God, yes, so much. Please. Please do it."

I take my hand and smooth it over her reddened ass.

"As you wish, baby. As you wish."

I lube myself up, spreading a little more over her pucker. I open her cheeks and gently push the head of my cock against her. I take it slowly, to ease her into it. She isn't talking anymore, but she's making a series of gasps and moans that is killing me. She's sex personified when she's so into the moment like this, and she really has no idea. When a girl is this smoking hot, how can I not want to bang her every second of the day?

The head pops inside, and I stop to let her adjust to the feeling.

"Oh fuck, I've needed this!"

I glance down at my cock in her ass. I shouldn't have done that, because now I want to fuck the living daylights out of her.

"You ready for me to move?"

"Oh, yes."

My hands are on her hips, and I slowly bury myself inside. I use my hands to pull her hips into me, getting as deep as I possibly can. There is nothing else in the world that feels like this. It's fucking amazing.

_God, I fucking love this woman. I love fucking this woman._

I'm so focused on my thrusts, on the sensations, that I can't say a word. I'm grunting and groaning, just hoping my parents can't hear me. Not that it wouldn't be payback for all the times I've listened to them, but still. Not cool.

Bella starts making a high-pitched whimper that I've never heard before, and I instantly stop.

"Baby? What is it? Are you all right?"

"Why did you stop?"

"It sounded like you were hurting!"

"I'm fine—I was getting ready to come!"

"Oh, sorry."

"Just carry on, yeah?" She says with impatience.

"Yeah."

I pick up where I left off, and her whimper isn't far behind. They say that men are visual creatures, and as I watch myself pumping in and out of her hot little ass—the same ass that attracted my attention all those years ago—I can hardly argue with their line of thinking, whoever they are. I feel her pulsing around my cock, and realize that she just came. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for me to come right behind her.

Gasping, she collapses onto her stomach. I gently lie down next to her, pulling her body into mine. We lie there, in silence, catching our breath. I pull the blanket over us and relish the warm softness of her body. It isn't long before her breathing pattern changes, becoming slow and even. She's fallen asleep. I'm not surprised, because she still tires so easily, even though she says she's just fine. She is such a stubborn, independent woman, but that's part of the reason I love her so much.

I still can't believe that I'm the one who unlocked her biggest secret. I know her in a way no one else ever will. I know her moan is mine alone. I know how to create the perfect gasp from her. _Me_. It's the best secret I've been privy to in my entire life.

**END NOTES: Buttsecks is ****for aciepey, 'cos she begged for it. Don't say I never did you any favors, acie. js.**

**We're getting to the end of the story, folks. Probably about 2-3 chapters plus an epilogue, just so everyone knows.**


	34. I Wanna Do Bad Things With You

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I continue to be touched by all of your wonderful reviews. Thank you, everyone, for taking time to read and review my little story****. It means the world to me. **

**Things I own: My very own case of a constant ringing in my ears for the past 7 years. Yeah, it's fucking annoying, but there it is. **

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who has stuck with me through thick and thin; I love you, bb, SFM. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4tonks, who also betas in Spanish. Thank god I don't speak the language, or she'd really be on my case. Ladyeire72 continues to pre-read and has been an ardent supporter of this story. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but I am forever grateful.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: I WANNA DO BAD THINGS WITH YOU**

**BPOV**

All that's left of my hearing loss is a constant ringing in my ears and it's still a little difficult to understand whispers. It's annoying, but tolerable. If Edward talks to me from another room, I can't hear him, so we've developed a new habit—we walk toward each other in order to say what needs to be said. Just seeing him enter the room makes me all kinds of swoony, and I usually get the sudden urge to kiss him. Instead of talking, we end up having a mini make-out session, and subsequently forget what needed to be said. It doesn't matter; we connect in a more meaningful way than mere words could convey, so I can hardly be disappointed in that.

I've never been known for being graceful, but apparently having meningitis took away any ability I might have had to walk without tripping over my own feet. I simply need to be more careful than I used to be; it's worse when I'm tired or stressed out. Who knew this is what it would take to slow me down?

My verbal filter was never one of my strengths, and it now appears to be non-existent. Naturally, Edward is thrilled by that, because I usually end up saying something about his cock out loud.

_Boys._

**~xXx~**

I'm a little surprised when Edward comes home tonight with a very serious expression on his face; he is usually full of smiles the minute he sees me. I'm sitting on the couch, and he sits down next to me. His face is stoic and unreadable. This worries me. A lot.

He exhales loudly before speaking. "Bella, there are two important things that happened today that I need to share with you. One is a very big deal, and it's going to require some decisions on your part. Do you feel up to it? If not, I can certainly wait."

"Why would I make you hold it in, Cullen? I'm not brain damaged, after all." I pause and think about what I just said. "Okay, I _am_ a little brain damaged, but I still want you to tell me. What is it?"

"I'll give you the most exciting news first."

He beams a radiant smile at me, and I feel instantly at ease.

"Dr. James McCullough was formally reprimanded today. He is on leave from the hospital until he completes an anger management _and _a cultural sensitivity course."

"Shut the front door!"

"I'm serious."

"What the hell did he have to do to earn that? I mean, they never do stuff like that!"

"He chose the wrong partner for Tango."

"What?"

"He tried to pick up Kitty. When she told him she was gay, he made a rather denigrating comment to her."

"NO! Is he really that stupid?"

Edward is grinning ear to ear. "Yep. He actually told her that all she needed was a good fuck to turn her straight."

"Jesus! I knew he was an ass, but that's such a low blow, even for him!"

"Kitty filed a complaint and said the only way she would not press criminal charges was if he had to go to the classes and was suspended until they were completed."

"I might need to rethink whether or not there is a higher power at work in the universe, after all." Edward's soft lips meet mine, and I can almost taste the victory he feels.

"Wait, don't get me sidetracked. There was something else."

"Uh, yeah. I don't really know how to say this…"

His words are interrupted by a big _pop_.

Carlisle walks into the room with a freshly opened bottle of champagne, and Esme has the flutes.

"Congratulations, Dr. Cullen!"

"Edward, what—?"

Esme comes up and kisses him on the cheek. "I always knew you could do it, my boy!"

I look at him, confused. He leans over and says in my ear, "I was offered a job to be an Attending Physician for the PICU today."

"WHAT?"

He just beams a grin at me. I whack him on the shoulder. "How did you not tell me that right away?"

Someone hands me a glass of champagne, but my mouth is otherwise occupied. I'm so fucking happy for him, I try to channel every ounce of happiness into my kiss. When we stop to breathe, he asks me if I'm okay with his taking the job.

_Is that really a question, Cullen?_

"Well, yeah, Swan, it's not my decision alone. There's two of us in this equation now."

"I said that out loud again, didn't I?"

He kisses me on the cheek. "Gotta love your lack of filter, baby."

"Edward, there's no question. Of course you're going to take it."

"Thank you, Bella. I love you."

"Love you, too."

"You know, Edward, I think it took you less time to become an Attending than it did for me."

"I find that very hard to believe, Dad."

Esme furrows her brows at his comment.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself? You hold yourself to impossible standards, you know."

"When you have two parents who are incredibly bright and talented, it's hard not to fail in comparison."

I snort from his comment, and end up with champagne coming through my nose. It's not a pleasant feeling.

"You can't be serious, Cullen! I mean, come on!"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, you have such confidence. It's almost like you were never really a fellow at all, you know?"

"I've never seen a fellow get hired as an Attending so quickly, son."

He gives Carlisle a _look_. It's the first time I've seen him disagree with his parents. He's clearly wrong, though. I whack him in the shoulder again.

"_What_?"

I roll my eyes. "Carlisle is right. Esme is right. Now get over it, Mr. I'm-A-Brilliant-PICU-Attending."

He nuzzles into my shoulder, a bit embarrassed. I wriggle my fingers through his gorgeously messed up sexhair and mess it up a bit more, giving him a mini head massage. He makes an adorable _Mmmm_ sound of pure contentment. I'm still stuck back on the sexhair comment, and I start to visualize all the many ways I can contribute to making his sexhair even hotter.

I hear some giggling, and deduce that I probably just said something about Edward's sexhair out loud.

"Goddammit, I'm so tired of this fucking filterfail!"

"Tell us how you really feel about it all, Bellar," Carlisle chuckles.

"Uh, sorry. It's just frustrating to be so out of control."

"I have some canapés made up for you two, to go with the champagne!" Esme chimes in. "I'll be right back."

"You need to be more patient with yourself, my dear. You've been through a very serious ordeal, after all."

I look at Edward, and it dawns on me that we're both doing the exact same thing to ourselves—being harsh and overly critical.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" I say, gently nudging his ribs.

"Peas in a pod. I complain about how you don't see yourself clearly, but then again, neither do I."

"I guess we'll just need to keep each other honest, then, won't we?"

"Absolutely."

Once we've finished the champagne, Carlisle and Esme retreat upstairs, leaving Edward and me to our own devices. That's usually code word for humping like bunnies, but we haven't quite gotten that far yet. We decide to watch a movie, so I snuggle into Edward. Elizabeth is practically sitting on top of me, and Darcy opts for sitting on Edward. They totally have an alpha male hissy fit going on over there. Edward keeps putting his arm over Darcy's neck, and Darcy then puts his neck over Edward's arm. Neither one wants to concede to the other, and it is most amusing. Meanwhile, Lizzie and I are cuddled up together, being good little girls without a care in the world.

Okay, that last bit is a total lie. I have a lot of cares right now, and they are niggling away at me so much I'm not even paying attention to the movie. I have three very specific, very deep, very troubling things on my mind:

1. Edward is going to be an attending physician—will that have an impact on me? For that matter, am I ever going to be able to get back to work, or will I remain a gimp for years? No one can tell me an answer, and I hate that.

2. Jasper and Alice's wedding is just around the corner, and I'm incredibly nervous about being there with Edward, and having people gush over our potential engagement. Plus, I'm also the Maid of Honor, and I'm afraid that I'm going to forget something very important.

3. That all leads to my biggest concern of all—why hasn't Edward said a word about getting engaged since I've moved in with his parents?

When Edward first came home, looking all serious business, I briefly wondered if he was going to ask me to marry him. The minute he opened his mouth, I knew he wasn't going to, and my heart broke just a little bit. I never thought I would be that girl—the one hanging on, waiting for a marriage proposal. In fact, I never wanted to be that girl. For some reason, I truly believed that Edward wanted to marry me, and I'm very surprised to find out that I actually want him to ask me. He'd been hinting at it for so long, but lately? He hasn't said a word. I worry that he's changed his mind.

Did going through this ordeal with me make me somehow appear less desirable? Am I damaged goods? I feel like the biggest weight on the Cullen family. I hate it that I need to be taken care of, and I have nothing to offer them in return. I know Edward still loves me, I mean, he tells me that every day. I just have no idea what's going on in his head, and for some reason, that really bothers me.

**~xXx~**

Darcy rouses me from a small nap using his typical method—a kiss on my cheek. It's his signal that they're both ready for their daily walkies. I go upstairs with them to find Esme. I'm greeted the same way I always am, with a beautiful smile and a kiss on the cheek. I'm holed up in their house, mooching off their generosity and kindness, and yet I get a kiss every day. I'm still trying to find the downside to all of this, but it hasn't appeared. I suspect it may never show.

"All set then, Bella?"

"Well, even if I'm not, I have been informed otherwise by Mr. Darcy. And you know he's _never_ wrong."

As we walk out the front door, she lets loose the most charming giggle, and I can't help but smile. "You have no idea how much joy it brings me to know that someone else in my household appreciates Jane Austen as much as I do, Bella."

"I can't even tell you the number of times I've read _Pride and Prejudice._ My copy is completely worn and tattered."

"So is mine! Carlisle is so confused as to how I can still enjoy something I've read so many times, but I always feel like I'm returning to old friends when I crack open the cover."

"Me, too! I hate finishing a good book, because I never want to say goodbye to characters whom I love. It almost like I've been sharing my life with them, and it feels wrong to suddenly close the door."

She stops abruptly, causing the dogs to pull at their leashes. Without a word, she turns and embraces me with a very strong hug. I'm not sure what happened to warrant this hug, but it still feels wonderful.

"Bella, I have to say this, so please let me finish before you speak."

"Of course," I answer automatically.

"Carlisle was a little older when we met, and it took us a long time to get pregnant. I had a very difficult time carrying Edward. To make a long story short, I had to have an emergency C-section and ended up with a hysterectomy to boot."

"God, Esme, that's tragic!"

She smiles at me, so kindly. "Just let me finish, please. This is important."

I nod my acquiescence.

"We knew we would never bear our own children again, so Edward became even more special and more important to us than ever. He's been such an incredible joy in our lives, you have no idea. Unlike many parents, we never had a period of estrangement, or fighting. It's almost as if he's been a little grown-up his entire life. He's such a serious boy, always working twice as hard as everyone else.

"What I want you to understand, Bella, is that Edward has never before been so attached to anyone else. Naturally, he had a few girlfriends in high school, but never anyone serious. He'd never even brought a girlfriend home to us before. When you showed up for his birthday party, I knew something remarkable had taken place in my son's life. He didn't even need to say a word; I could just tell how much you mean to him.

"Now that you two have been together for a while, I want you to know that you are the daughter I never had. I never felt sad that I didn't have a girl, or mourned the fact that I only had one child. You've managed to worm your way into my heart so completely, it would have killed me if your outcome had been more serious. I've never felt like it was okay for me to share that with you, but when I saw you walk into the kitchen with the dogs, I knew I simply had to tell you that."

I feel tears running down my cheeks, and I am at a complete loss of words. Esme Cullen, this beautiful, poised, intelligent, devoted, caring woman, has told me the most moving thing I think I've ever heard. I can't even begin to tell her how much that meant to me.

"You're crying? I meant it to be kind, dear."

I take in a big, gaspy breath, trying to settle myself down. "Oh Esme, I think that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I never imagined that I would find someone who felt like a mother to me after my mom died. I let that wound heal over, considering it sealed for the rest of my life. For a long time now, I've considered you to be my surrogate mom; you've been so loving and accepting of me, and I'm truly grateful for that."

I see a bench nearby, and walk over to sit down. What I need to say will make me weak in the knees, and I have no intention of collapsing in front of her. The minute I sit down, the tears come pouring from my eyes, because I know what I need to say.

"I love your family, Esme. I love you, I adore Carlisle, and I think your son is heaven sent…" my breath hitches as I breathe in deeply. My voice gets all high and stilted; I can barely choke this out. "But I'm afraid that I might have to give you all up, and that is going to break my heart. I don't want to lose you. I need you. All of you."

I'm sobbing into Esme's shoulder, and she has her arms wrapped tightly around me. "Oh my Bella, why would you ever lose me? Or any of us? We all love you so much. You've managed to make our family complete, and we didn't even realize there was something missing. It's you, love. It's always been meant for you."

I shake my head, not being able to bear looking directly into her eyes. "I can't say it."

"Shh, love, shh. It doesn't matter."

I'm all wound up and emotional, and I launch into a diatribe, unable to stop myself. "But it does! I don't think Edward wants to marry me, and I don't know why I'm so upset, because I never wanted to be married, ever. When he said he wanted to marry me, it made me so happy. He feels like my Prince Charming—the kind of guy who is perfect, and beautiful, and everything that you always wanted, and everything you never knew you needed. He's sweet, and thoughtful, and loving, and smart. But ever since I've been at your house, he hasn't said another word about it. I'm afraid he's tired of me, because all he has to do is take care of me," I wail, letting my misery overtake me. "Wh… what-t-t-t am I gggoing to dooo?" I finally choke out.

She continues to hold me, kissing the top of my head, gently rocking me. When I start to calm down, she speaks once again.

"Now, has Edward said anything that makes you think he's changed his mind? Or is it just that he hasn't mentioned marriage?"

I stop to ponder her question. "Um, well, he tells me every day how much he loves me," I flush, sharing our intimate secrets with his mother.

"Mmhmm…" she encourages me on.

"No, I guess he just hasn't talked about it since I've been out of the hospital."

"Can you imagine why he might not discuss it with you? I mean, aside from the fact that he might not want to marry you any more."

"No, I guess not. My mind never went beyond him not wanting to marry me."

"Sweetie, you do understand that you've been recovering from a very serious illness, right? You've been tired, confused, and you get worn out very easily. Is it possible that he just wants you to get stronger before you start talking about building a life together?"

"Oh, I never thought of it like that."

"Well, I have the benefit of being an outside observer, and I do happen to know my son very well. I imagine he is just waiting for you to feel better. I'm sure he doesn't want to make you more stressed than you already are."

"I'm not stressed. Why would he think I was stressed?"

"I meant your body, dear. Not your mind," she reassures me. "Edward once told me that you were afraid to date a doctor, and that you've been reticent about the idea of marriage."

"You know, I'm not sure I ever told him that I do want to marry him, even when we talked about it in general terms," I sniff.

"I think that if you let him know how you feel, he'll be more forthcoming with his thoughts on the matter."

"I can't believe I'm talking to my boyfriend's mom about marrying him. I'm more than a little embarrassed."

"There's no need for that, I assure you. I've grown very attached to having a female presence in my home, and I'm not about to upset that balance for any reason. And Bella? I'm more than happy to plant a few seeds in his brain about what we've discussed today."

"Oh, that feels so conniving and wrong, though!"

She raises one eyebrow and looks at me directly. "Trust me, when it comes to boys, sometimes one needs to be a little conniving."

The devious look on her face totally reminds me of Edward. I never realized before just how much he's like his mother. I always assumed he was more like Carlisle, since they have the same career, but there's a hell of a lot of Esme in him, too.

I giggle through my tears and give her a big hug. "Thank you, for this. For everything. You're beyond wonderful."

"The feeling is entirely mutual. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see my son so blissfully happy. You're everything to him, and to us."

At that moment, Elizabeth puts her head in my lap and gives me the sad eyes. It's her way of asking to continue the walkies; she's had enough of my sniveling.

"I guess we should listen to the dogs for a bit, shouldn't we?"

"Well, just remember—Mr. Darcy is never wrong!"

She wraps her arm around me and we continue on, smiling and content.

_Life is good. So fucking good._

**~xXx~**

**EPOV**

I walk in the front door, and I have three things on my mind: Changing out of my clothes, eating something for the first time all day, and fucking Bella Swan senseless. Not necessarily in that order, either.

I'm about to charge downstairs to hump Swan, when my mom catches me.

"Edward? Could I have your assistance for a minute?"

_Fucking hell._

"Sure, Mom. Just a sec," I tell her. I hang up my coat and then walk into the kitchen. "What's up, Mrs. Esme Cullen?"

She smirks at me, handing me a sandwich. God, she knows me so well, it's scary. You can't make progress with a hungry doctor. Calm the stomach, calm the mind. "How long has it been since you and Bella have done something special together?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she hasn't really been able to go anywhere for a few months now. The only time she ever gets out is when we take the dogs for a walk. Maybe you should wine and dine her, make her feel really special."

"I'd love to, but she still gets tired so easily, Mom." I pause for a minute, and realize my mother is maneuvering. She is such an expert that you hardly notice she's doing it at all. "What do you mean, make her feel really special? What are you not telling me?"

She shrugs her shoulders, completely nonchalant. "Oh, nothing. It's just easy for a person to feel useless and down when they have people helping them do everything. I just want to make sure that Bella still feels beautiful and cherished."

"Mom, you _know_ Bella understands how much I love her. I say it all the time, in so many different ways."

"Are you sure about that? How do you know?"

"What did she say to you?"

"What makes you think she said something to me?" She smiles sweetly. I don't buy her innocence for a minute.

"Because I know how you operate. I've watched you work your charms on Dad for years."

"Just trust me when I say Bella needs some genuine TLC. I think she's feeling a little adrift; she seems uncertain of her role in our family or in her own life. Just reassure her that she is adored."

"I know what you're thinking."

"Do you?"

"Yes. If it's to be done in the spring, we'll only have 5 months to get everything in motion."

The satisfied smile on my mother's face is absolutely priceless. "Leave that to me. I'll make sure everything is ready for you."

"God, I love you, Mom. Thank you, for taking care of her. For listening to her. She hides some things from me, but I'm glad you're such an expert at pulling out information people wouldn't otherwise share with you."

"A mother is only as happy as her saddest child, Edward. I have two children to look out for now, and it's my job to make sure that they are both happy. I especially need to make sure that they are happy together."

I stop to give my mom a huge hug. It occurs to me that some day, Bella will fight just as fiercely for our own children, and the thought fills me with a sense of joy that I can barely contain.

"Your father and I are going out for dinner tonight. Give me five minutes, all right?"

"If I've never told you this before, you are nothing less than a brilliant genius of love."

"I know, my boy."

She smacks my ass as I turn around and head down to my room. I just snicker at her as I leave.

**~xXx~**

Maybe all those weeks without sex took more of a toll than I realized. Now that Bella and I have started up again, we've been humping like bunnies. I don't know what it is, exactly, but when I see her in my parent's house—the place where I grew up—I'm so fucking stoked that I just want to sully the fuck out of her. Knowing that she's sleeping with me in my childhood bed every night is an instant hard on.

Like I said, humping like bunnies.

When I get downstairs, Bella is on the couch. She isn't doing anything, just watching TV, yet she's still seductive as hell. The _True Blood_ theme starts to play; I hear the words, "I wanna do bad things with you," and that's all it takes. Without warning, I hoist her over my shoulder and haul her into my room. The door is slammed shut at once, before Darcy and Elizabeth even have time to react.

_Sorry, bitches, Bella is mine right now._

I spank Bella's ass before I toss her down.

"I totally wanna do bad things with you. Constantly. It's a problem that needs to be resolved."

"Oh, is it?"

"Here's how it goes. You have two seconds to get completely naked. Then, you're going to ride on my face until I have you seeing stars. After that? I'm going to ride you so hard you might just develop a permanent limp. Any questions?"

She just shakes her head, eyes wide.

"That's what I'm talking about. My horniness level has reached critical mass, and we're definitely having a melt down. Hopefully several, in fact."

She stands there, looking at me.

"What part of 'naked' and 'two seconds' did you not understand?"

"Oh!"

I cross my arms, waiting for her. I decide she's taking too damn long, so I take care of it by myself.

I dive onto my bed and rip off her clothes. They're supposedly pajamas, but to me, they're nothing more than the hugest cocktease known to man. The fucking Hooters girls have more coverage than Bella Swan does in those pajamas.

She lets out a loud squeal as I get her naked. Suddenly, she freezes.

"What, baby?"

"Oh my god, your parents!"

I shake my head. She really needs to get over this. Far from being mortified by hearing their son have sex, I think they're both genuinely reassured to know that I've found someone to bonk on the regular.

"They went out for dinner. They wanted us to have the house to ourselves."

"Wow, I don't know if I should be grateful or mortified."

"Easy. Grateful."

"Cullen, you're still dressed."

"Yeah, the deal was _you_ were getting naked in two seconds. You didn't even make it, so I had to help you out."

"Well, I'm going on strike until I get to see your penis."

_I really, really love this woman's attachment to my cock._

"That won't be necessary," I reply, pulling my clothes off.

She reaches over and wraps her hand around my hard cock. She completes the move with such a sense of ownership, and it's so fucking hot.

"So hard for me, already." She grins.

Two can play that game. I stroke my fingers over her lips to find her soaking wet. "So wet for me, already."

"Always," she whispers.

I roll over onto my back and put my hands on her hips to drag her up to my face.

"Hold on to the headboard."

"Okay."

I use my fingers to spread her open; she's so close to me, I need a moment to take in the perfection of her pussy. She's beautiful everywhere.

"You ready to ride?"

"Oh, yes, baby."

Without another word, she lowers herself onto me, slick, warm, and wet. She starts to gyrate over my mouth, using the headboard for leverage. My mouth is everywhere and nowhere; we're nothing more than a hot, sliding mess, and it feels incredible.

I feel her shift above me, and look up to see her tugging on her barbells. She's moaning like a cat in heat, and the sound goes straight to my dick.

"Suck my clit, Edward. Now!"

Her voice sounds shaky, and that makes her request even more erotic. I do as I'm told, even though I thought I was the one running the show. It just illustrates how much this woman has me wrapped around her finger.

It isn't long before I feel her muscles clench. I keep my mouth still while she comes down. She shimmies her body down mine and gives me a kiss that I can feel all the way to my toes. When she's finished, she smirks at me.

"I do believe you promised to leave me with a limp, Cullen. I'm going to hold you to that."

I show her no mercy. My cock slips into her so easily, and I sink in as far as I can go. I flip us over, so that she's underneath me, and grab her hips, trying desperately to get even deeper. I give her a few good, deep thrusts and then quickly move her knees over my shoulders. It lets me get farther inside, and I don't pause again. I'm positively relentless, our skin slaps together violently. Her tits are bouncing wildly, and her moans become nothing more than a series of grunts, each one broken by another thrust.

"Uh-

_Slap!_

Uh-

_Slap!_

Uh-

_Slap!_

Uh-

_Slap!_

Fu-uh-uh-ckkk

_Slap!_

I wrap my hands over her shoulders from behind, and pull her onto me as far as she'll go, and I burst. I'm panting in between spasms, and I feel Bella's arms wrapped tightly around me.

When I'm finally done, I roll over onto my back, my heart still pounding. Bella takes up residence next to me, her little head on my shoulder, and the rest of her body wrapped around mine. She has one of my thighs between her legs. My arms are wrapped around her. We're snuggled as closely as we can possibly get.

I kiss the top of her head and smile to myself, completely satisfied with absolutely everything.

"I'll never, ever be able to quit you, Bella Swan, and I'm not going to even fucking try."

She makes a very contented _Hmmm_, and I realize that she's already asleep.

**~xXx~**

I stir when I feel Edward stroking my hair.

"Bella, I need to talk to you."

"Ah, okay."

"About the wedding."

My heart starts pounding from the adrenaline I just released into my bloodstream. I swallow, but it is difficult. "Wed…wedding?"

"Yes, Alice and Jasper? This April?"

_Shit. Way to sound like an idiot, Swan._

"Oh. Yeah. Wedding. What about it?"

"Well, you remember what I got for my birthday, right?"

"Boxers? What in the hell does that have to do with a wedding?"

Edward chuckles, amused. "No, the present from my parents."

I try to remember, but I can't seem to recall what it was.

"Plane tickets? To England?"

"Oh yeah! I do remember that. What about it?"

He rolls over and settles himself between my legs, so his face is now inches from mine. "I was hoping I could coerce you into taking a side trip after the wedding. I very much want to show you the place where my father grew up, and where my ancestors are from."

I'm all choked up and emotional; never in a million years did I expect him to propose this kind of a trip. He wants to show me where he's from… how awesome is that?

"Edward, I would be honored. Of course we should do that."

He seals the deal with a forehead kiss, and I melt into him. "Perfect."

**END NOTE: Edward's face ride is specifically for Breakawaygirl, because she asked nicely. I'm totally willing to give out sexual favors. Js.**

**I'm more than a little bit obsessed by headboards at the mo, since I saw the **_**Breaking Dawn**_** trailer. I just couldn't omit one from this chapter.**

**In a total bit of h00rish self-pimpage, **_**The Nightingale Journals**_** has been nominated for two Gigglesnort Awards. If you feel so inclined to vote, you may do so here: awards DOT gigglesnort DOT net.**


	35. One Wedding and a Funeral

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I went skydiving recently, and it was the best thing ever****. Cross that one off the bucket list. WOOHOO! **

**Aciepey and nitareality have informed me that there is an alternate to adding the words "in bed" to a fortune. It's adding the words "with buttsecks." Interesting. We'll have to test that theory out, won't we?**

**Things I own: A lovely Whippet who curls up next to me when I write. And two cats who both like to sit on my shoulders, or on my keyboard. Clearly, they all like to help. **

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who puts up with everything I dish up, heartfail or no. The happies in this chapter are all for you. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4Tonks, who always, always keeps me humble. Ladyeire72 is my devoted pre-reader, making sure everything makes sense.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: ONE WEDDING AND A FUNERAL**

_**Five Months Later… April 2011**_

I'm not really sure how to explain this to Bella. I'd rather not discuss it at all, if I had my way, but it would be worse for her to hear it from someone else.

_Hey, Bella, one of our patients has a crush on me. Oh, he also happens to be gay. But __**I'm**__ not gay! Want me to show you?..._

I wince at the recollection that Bella thought I was gay for quite some time before I finally convinced her otherwise. Not that it was difficult, once she saw what I could do to her with my cock.

Since my parents are already in England, Bella and I have the house to ourselves tonight, but I have plans for her that include more than just humping like bunnies, for once. I'm going to surprise her with the First Annual Dr. Green-Eyed Monster Film Festival. Somehow, I have to work my confession into these plans now, which totally screws with my mojo.

When I first became a fellow in the PICU, Bella used to talk movies with me all the time, and she never failed to scoff at me when I hadn't seen what she deemed to be a classic film. We're going to watch _Stand By Me_ and _Charlie And The Chocolate Factory._ I know she's nervous as hell about Alice's wedding in a few days, so I want to keep her mind focused on other things. She tends to be very easily distractible when she's within five feet of my penis, so it shouldn't be too hard to get her to think about something else tonight. Naturally, I've made arrangements for my penis to be in close proximity to her.

Bella has come such a long way in the past 8 months. She's almost back to her pre-meningitis baseline. She still has some ringing in her ears and her feet are a little clumsy, but aside from that, her brain has almost fully recovered. Once we get back from our trip to England, she plans to start to ease back into her job on the PICU.

Her biggest fear about Alice's wedding is that she's going to trip on her way down the aisle. In fact, she's been practicing by walking up and down my parents' hallway in her bridesmaid dress and shoes. Every time I catch her in the act, I envision what she'll look like when she finally walks down that aisle toward me. It's been hell waiting for so long to ask her to marry me, but I needed to wait until everything could be put into motion, and until she was healed up well enough to take the trip to England.

"Before the First Annual Dr. GEM Film Festival begins, Ms. Swan, I have a confession to make."

Her eyes are full of surprise.

"Dr. GEM?"

I roll my eyes at her. "You're the one who made it up—Dr. Green-Eyed Monster."

She blushes slightly as she giggles. "You remembered! I guess you can actually be a clever boy if you try hard enough."

"How could I ever forget? That moniker ultimately got you into my bed!" I muss up her hair then give her an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.

"Anyway, to get back on point, there's something that happened at work that I need to tell you about…" I begin, hesitantly. She instantly grabs my hand, giving me a solid squeeze.

"What is it?"

I rake my hand through my hair, even though I know full well that it's unwritten code for _Edward Cullen is nervous_. I can't seem to help myself.

She just gives my hand another squeeze, waiting for my confession.

"Okay, so there's a patient we have right now who's waiting for a heart transplant."

"How is this something you need to confess?"

I give her a look of impatience. "That isn't it."

She lets out a small huff. "Okay. And?"

When I think about what I need to say next, I feel my cheeks start to burn.

"_You're_ blushing? Oh my god, I can't even imagine what could make you blush!"

"Swan," I growl a warning at her.

"Sorry. Yes, continue," she says, trying to hide her amusement, and failing miserably.

"I was giving him a head-to-toe assessment this morning, and, uh, as I palpated his abdomen," I stop to clear my throat, breathing deeply before I begin again. "I happened to notice that while his belly may have been nice and soft, other areas of his body were not."

She furrows her brow at me as she takes in what I'm trying to say. A moment later, her eyebrows rise up in recognition.

"Exactly," I reply to her gesture. She's trying very hard not to laugh, but I can tell she's holding it back.

"Oh, god, the poor kid! What did you do?"

"I ignored it. Obviously."

"That happens to me all the time. I mean, with the adolescent guys. They can't help it, you know."

"You hardly need to tell me about adolescent boys and erections; I was one, once upon a time." Still, she isn't quite getting what I'm trying to tell her. "I know it happens to you, but does it happen to Jasper?"

"Jasper? What does he have…" She stops abruptly. "Oh! I guess not, no."

"Well, imagine if McCarty had to break the news to you that one of your patients has a crush on you."

"No!"

"Oh yes. I was in the dictation room when he found me."

"Oh, god. What did he say?"

"He told me that if I wasn't already bonking you 24/7, that he would have given me the movie _Bareback Mountain_ in order to study up."

"I'm sorry, Edward. That had to be really embarrassing."

"Well, it's not as embarrassing as when the woman you love thinks that you're gay."

"You do have a point there."

"You know how badly they razz me when a female patient has a crush on me. They were ruthless in the physician's work room."

"Oh, baby," she coos sweetly in my ear. "Hmm."

I can tell that she's thinking things over. "Do you need me to go out of my way to prove to you that you aren't gay? I don't want this to come up between us again, unless it's because you're showing me the many ways in which you're not gay."

I chuckle at her words, remembering the time when I was the one saying them to her. Grateful for her reassurances, I give her a long, slow kiss.

"Mmm. _So_ not gay," she mumbles.

"I hope it isn't insensitive of me, but I really miss you at work."

"You interrupted a great kiss to tell me _that_?" She sounds wounded.

"I guess I did, yeah. I was just thinking about sick patients, and I remembered what it was like when we were on the same shift together. I had a patient who ended up with septic shock, and no one paid attention to any of the signs. I just know that had you been there, we could've saved him."

"There's no guarantee I would've noticed either, Cullen."

I snort out a huff. "Don't even go there. Of course you would've noticed—it's your specialty. I don't know if it's a sixth sense, or your nursing intuition, or what, but you _always_ see the signs that no one else does," I try to explain. "I don't just miss the camaraderie of working side by side, I truly miss your brain and your skills. Is that bad?"

"No," she pauses. "No, it isn't bad. It just makes me miss it even more acutely when you talk about things that are going on. I miss it so much, Edward."

"I know you do, baby. I'm sorry I brought it up." I kiss her again, not being able to resist.

"You can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to go from being in charge of my faculties and on top of my game to being a gimp. It's been a huge adjustment, and one I haven't made very well. I crave the challenge and the excitement I used to have in my life. I hate being useless."

"You're anything but useless, Bella. It's hard to recover, and that is what you've had to focus upon. You've done an incredibly good job with it. Once the wedding is over and we return from our trip, I'm certain that you'll be ready to dive back in."

"God, I sure hope so," she answers, her voice sounding so small and unsure.

She snuggles into my lap and I wrap my arms around her, trying to make her feel safe and wanted. I feel so frustrated that I can't express everything that is going through my mind. I want her to understand the way in which she owns my very soul. If she could see just how much I hold her in esteem for her skills and intelligence, in addition to everything else, perhaps she wouldn't be as hard on herself.

"You know what? That's not something we need to worry about today. Save it for another time. Let's focus on the movie, and all the ways I'm going to show just how not gay that I am. Deal?"

She grabs the remote from my hand. "As long as what you're showing me has nothing to do with local access cable, it's a deal."

"I don't know, Swan. We might be able to find some really good homemade porn," I joke.

"Oh my god, there is no such thing as good homemade porn!"

"You really shouldn't have said that…" I tease.

"Why not?"

"Because it sounds like a challenge. I bet you and I could make some fucking amazing homemade porn."

"We're _so_ not going there!"

"But baby, you're so sexy! It totally gets me hot to think of other guys wanting you, but knowing that all they can do is look, because you belong to _me._" I pull her down into my lap and grind my hard on into her, as if she needs further proof of how much the idea turns me on.

She crosses her arms in front of her tits. I swear to god she does that on purpose to distract me from what I'm trying to say. It very nearly works, until she mutters the words, "Not. Happening." She pokes her finger into my chest for emphasis.

I make a mental note to myself.

_Homemade porn. It's happening._

**~xXx~**

Bella suddenly grabs the remote, pausing the movie at the point where Veruca Salt is whining to her father, _But Daddy, I want a golden goose_ _nowwwwww_!

I turn to look at Bella, wondering why she turned the movie off.

"Edward, I'm not quite sure how to tell you this; I'm going to need your full attention." She looks at me seriously.

My heart stops beating for a minute.

"What is it, Bella?" My voice is calm, but it still cracks when I say her name.

"Well, we need to arrange for a funeral. I'm not sure what can be done on short notice."

_Okay, now I'm__ completely lost._

"What the fuck, Swan?"

Unable to hold back any longer, a beaming smile pops onto her face, followed by a fit of giggles.

"Gay Dr. Cullen is dead. We need to give him a proper send off. I think I know just the thing."

"That earned you a huge spank, you naughty girl! For a second there, I thought you were going to break up with me."

"Cullen, are you high? Why in god's name would I ever break up with you? Do you not understand the depths of my feelings for you?"

"I thought I did, but you caught me off guard."

She shakes her head in disapproval. I notice that her arms are crossed under her tits once again, and I'm distracted until she starts speaking. "Falling for something like that so easily. You disappoint me."

"Well, lucky for you, I know just the way to erase that disappointment entirely."

She quirks an eyebrow at me.

I slide her onto my lap so that she's straddling me. I grab her hot little ass and press her against my hard cock.

"That's a very good start," she says in between her moans.

_I've got a golden ticket_.

I never find out just what happens to Veruca Salt, as my attention is focused elsewhere for the rest of the night.

_Best. Funeral. Ever._

**~xXx~**

Bella and I are trying to take the morning casually, since we don't have to get to Jasper and Alice's place until noon. The bridesmaids are all going to get ready together or some other girlie kind of thing like that. I'm doing all I can to keep Bella's mind off the wedding to help minimize her stress level.

We're sitting together at the breakfast table when I read her horoscope out loud. The horoscopes happen to be posted in the funny pages section, and Bella _hates_ the funny pages. She says the very idea that such easy humor is actually funny is fuckery of the highest order. She nearly died from laughter once when we were watching the _Big Bang Theory_, and Sheldon made a scathing comment about the funny pages. _Comics are feeble attempts at humor featuring talking babies and anthropomorphized pets found traditionally in the optimistically named funny pages_. He took the words right out of her mouth. I can't say I disagree, but I still like to play around with her.

When I'm finished reading, I take the liberty to tell her what _Mark Trail_ is up to.

"Rrrrr, I HATE MARK TRAIL!"

_God, it is so much fun to piss her off._

"Give it to me."

"What?"

"No funny business, Cullen. GIVE ME THE PAPER."

"You aren't going to ruin the crossword now, are you?"

I hand the paper over to her, most unwillingly. Apparently, I'm taking too much time, because she snatches it from my hand.

"Cullen, just as there is no reason to ever, EVER stop on the public access cable channel, there is also no reason to read _Mark Trail_. The next time you read it out loud, you will lose your crossword puzzle privileges."

"But it's my paper!"

"Yes, but you're sharing it with me, and that means you need to play well with others."

"What's the fun in that?"

I watch Bella stab her finger into the open Nutella jar, still growling and complaining under her breath.

"Swan, you can't do that!"

With her finger in her mouth, she replies with a muffled, "Wha?"

"You can't muck up the Nutella by eating it with your finger. That's double dipping."

She just snorts at me, and puts another finger of Nutella in her mouth, swirling her finger with her tongue. When she kicks in with making sex noises at the same time, my cock twitches.

Not one to be selfish, she gives me a scoop as well, and plants a delicious kiss on top of it. She follows that up with another scoop for herself.

I glance over when she happens to be removing her finger from her mouth, and my brain imagines that it's my cock instead. I walk over to her and stop so that my crotch is right in front of her face. I'm guessing she isn't going to need any help to figure out what I want.

Sure enough, her small hands are on my fly in less than 3 seconds. Good god, I love this woman.

She rubs her palm over my hard cock, knowing just what I need. It only takes a few more seconds before the parka joins our little party.

For some reason, Bella just loves having my cock in her mouth. I don't think we've ever had sex without her going down on me at some point. Of course I'm totally okay with her oral obsession. I watch as her lips close over me, and she looks up into my eyes. Her big brown eyes just kill me—she always looks at me with such love and trust. That's a close second to my favorite view in the world—my cock sliding in and out of her gorgeous pussy.

She takes my hands and places them on the back of her head. She wants me to fuck her mouth, and it makes me even harder than I already am. I love that she wants me to control the pace. We're such partners in every aspect of our lives, so when she lets me take over? It's one of the hottest things ever. Bella Swan is a brilliant, independent woman, and she fucking lets me take charge. It's such a gift.

Without warning, her finger subtly slides over my pucker, then dips inside. Her finger is still wet from her erotic Nutella tease. She catches me by surprise, but a very pleasant one at that.

_This woman fucking owns me._

I feel her press my prostate, and it's over. She takes me deep as I begin to come, swallowing everything I give her, just like she always does.

I realize that in the entire time it took her to give me her signature style beej, neither one of us uttered a word. That is sexual compatibility at its best—we just happen to know what we both need.

Right now, I need Bella's tits—in my hands, in my mouth, unencumbered. Before I get to work, I lift her onto the table, so she's just in the right spot. I peel off her shirt and bra, and the first thing I see is the silver flash of her piercings. God, what those do to me should be considered illegal—so fucking hot. I cup her breasts, only to find myself incredibly impatient with the limitations of tactile stimulation. My mouth decides to lend a hand to the unfolding scenario.

Carefully, I use my tongue to place one of the barbell ends between my teeth. Simultaneously, I give it a tug with my teeth and twist the other one with my fingers. She arches her back, trying to get her nipples closer, as if that's even possible. I pull the entire nipple between my teeth and bite down lightly then use my tongue to tease the tip of it. I use light little brushes, barely enough to satisfy her.

While my mouth is busy above, my hands head straight for her pussy. I'm rewarded with a deliciously wet spot on her panties. My little minx—always so horny. I can't be bothered with getting her undressed at this point, I'm too impatient. I slide the crotch aside and run my finger over her lips. The minute I feel how wet she is, I abandon her tits and fling her underwear across the room, and she lets out a burst of giggles. I grab on to her knees, pulling her in close to me, then slide my hands under her ass. It lets me pivot her hips in a way that I can maximize how close I can get my mouth on her.

Before I dive in, I use my tongue to gently lick up and down her wet folds, teasing her. When I reach her opening, I thrust my tongue inside unexpectedly, getting as deep as I possibly can. It's never deep enough for my satisfaction, though. It makes me wish I had a tongue like a bear, long and thin, so I could get way up inside of her. Since I have a very human tongue, though, I just rely upon my trusty fingers to work her G-spot.

I shift my mouth up to her clit. Instead of teasing her mercilessly with the tip of my tongue, I try something different. I merely suck the entire thing into my mouth, as hard as I can. I wrap my lips over my teeth, then I bite down, right on top of her.

"Fuck! Edward!"

I smile, which breaks the seal I have around her clit, but it doesn't even matter, because she's already coming. I can feel her pulsing around my fingers, and it always makes me so fucking full of myself. I have none other than the amazing Bella Swan in my grasp, and I can get her off, every single time. That's every reason to be smug, right there.

As she stops twitching, she reaches under my arms, pulling me up to her waiting mouth. I'm still filled with the taste of her, and it mingles along with the remnants of her Nutella.

I glance at the time, noting that we need to arrive at Jasper and Alice's shortly. I guess my plans to distract Bella worked just fine after all.

**~xXx~**

Bella has a little bit of time to kill while the photographer works with Alice and Jasper, so I try to make the most of it. Alice has her attired in a very sexy blue dress with a v-neck. When she stands next to me, I take a moment to check out what kind of bra she's wearing underneath, peering down the front.

"Cullen, knock it off!" she says, swatting at my hands. "We're at a wedding, for Christ's sake! You can control yourself for a few hours, can't you?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm supposed to look at you in that fuckhot concoction and not want to bang you over in the corner?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you're supposed to do! Look, but don't touch."

"Who made up these draconian rules, anyhow? I want to complain," I whine, as I pull her away from the group.

"Wait, where are we going? I just said look but don't touch!"

"That's right, you did. So you're going to lift up that skirt of yours in private and let me look at what's underneath."

"You are such a perv. Don't you ever take a holiday?"

"Says the woman who's bonkers for my penis."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Weddings aren't supposed to be sexy. They're supposed to be boring and long."

"Trust me, you in that dress is anything but boring, but if I don't get to touch you, this wedding is going to be unendurably long."

She gives me a smirk, and I can tell I'm starting to wear her down. "How about if I promise not the muss up your hair and makeup, and get the job done without any wrinkles or stains to your dress?"

"Goddammit, that's so unfair! You're evil and torturous."

I run the tip of my nose along her neck, and I get a deep whiff of her perfume, the scent that is so uniquely Bella to me. She whimpers.

"Sexing you up stealthily is anything but torturous, baby. It's kindness. It's a gift."

"Oh, so that's what it's called? Seeing you come at me in your tux, all dapper and hot, then begging me for sex? How in god's name am I supposed to resist you?"

"That's the catch, you _aren't_ supposed to," I answer, tugging her arm. I know just the place I want to take her.

"Wait, outside? It's freezing!"

It's only April, and it is a little chilly, but I'll have her warmed up in no time. "Here, slip on my jacket."

I tug her along the small portico outside the church to a secluded little corner. I smile at my own genius in spotting this site earlier. I try to convince myself that I'm doing this all for Bella, to take her mind off her nerves. No self interest here at all. None whatsoever. This totally qualifies me for martyrdom, even_._

"Do I have permission to make you re-apply lipstick?" I ask, for clarification purposes.

She stops to think for a minute. "All right."

I instantly plant my lips on hers; they're almost as distracting as her tits, and I've been wanting to kiss her for hours. She lets out a gorgeous little sigh that convinces me she feels exactly the same way.

I reach underneath her skirt, trailing my fingers up her thighs, and cup my palms on her ass.

Her _bare_ ass.

"Commando, Bella?" I say with extreme surprise.

"I had a feeling you might wanna get lucky at some point tonight."

I give her another kiss. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever known, Bella Swan. I think you were created just for me, back when I was 13."

"Dude, when we were 13, I was flatter than a pancake. You wouldn't have been interested."

I look her straight in the eyes. "No, that's not true. I knew from the minute I first saw you, I had to have you. It would have been the same had I met you at 13."

"You're so full of bullshit, Cullen. You don't need to lie—I'm kind of a sure bet here."

I slap her bare ass at that. "I _don't_ fucking lie, and you know it. You will always be the example of a perfect woman to me. Always. At any age."

With that, I squat down in front of her and position myself under her skirt. She gasps loudly when she feels my mouth on her. I spread her lips open, and slide my tongue inside of her. She's completely motionless, just absorbing the pleasure I'm delivering.

I replace my tongue with my fingers, and move my attention up to her clit. My intention had been to work her good and long, but I'm too impatient for that. She's so wet and ready, I forget myself, and mindlessly shift into hyperdrive mode. Her broken gasps and hitched breaths go straight to my cock, but my focus is just on her. She needs this, so she'll be relaxed and ready when her time to walk down the aisle arrives.

She whisper-gasps her telltale, pre-orgasm "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" and spasms right in front of me, as I hear someone shout out, "Bella?"

_Oh, jesus. Alice._

I hear Bella gasp, but it is decidedly different than the one she just gave me moments earlier.

"Alice!"

I quickly appear from underneath Bella's skirt and turn to find Alice's shocked face in front of mine. Without thinking, I lick my lips, which are still slick from my previous activities.

Bella takes my tux jacket and hides her face underneath.

"Cullen, you gave my best friend head while I was taking photographs? For my _wedding_?"

I look from the hidden Bella over to Alice, plainly caught in the act. "Um, yes?"

Alice balls up her hand into a fist and brings it toward me. I flinch, but I don't feel her punch. Instead, she balls my hand up into a fist and bumps it with her own. I look at her, totally confused.

"You're a total genius, Dr. Cullen. She so needed that! She's been a hot mess since you dropped her off at my place earlier!"

I didn't expect such a response from her. "You're not mad?"

"Pfft, hell no. I'd be mad if she missed her cue to walk down the aisle. What she does while waiting for the rest of the shenanigans to take place is her own business."

I beam a very relieved smile at the tiny woman in front of me. "You really are a gem, you know that? A true friend understands what her friends need from her. Thank you."

Bella chooses that moment to peek out from under my jacket. Naturally, her face is beet red. "I'm still here, you two!" she grouses.

I lean over and kiss her cheek. "Could have fooled me, with the noises you were making a few seconds ago."

Bella promptly whacks me on the shoulder. "Oh my god, will you shut up?"

Alice and I crack up.

"C'mon floozy. It's time to get a wedding started."

Bella leans over and whispers into my ear, "You totally deserve to have blue balls right now, and they're going to stay that way all night long, buster!"

I put on my best pouty face, and she smirks at me. Something tells me that she's completely serious, and I inwardly groan to myself.

**~xXx~**

When I watch Bella walking down the aisle, I can see how hard she's focusing on staying upright. The uneven brick floor is making it difficult for her, especially with the shoes she's wearing. She doesn't look bad, but she also is concentrating so hard that she isn't smiling. It's adorable and touching to see her focus like that, but I'm also very nervous for her. If she trips or falls, she'll be very upset with herself, even though no one would ever blame her.

Seeing her in that moment, I can't help thinking about what she'll look like when she's the one walking down to meet me. I've always considered Alice and Jasper's wedding as a trial run of sorts, and it has done nothing to quench my desire to marry Bella.

_A few more days, Cullen. Just wait a few more days._

I think about the e-mail my mom sent to me, letting me know that everything I need in England is in place. I almost think that my parents are more excited for the big moment than I am.

I'm relieved when Bella makes it all the way to the front of the church, up the steps, and stands in her place. She gives me a triumphant smile, and I'm so fucking proud, I'm beaming right alongside her.

I hear the movement of the entire building standing up, and I turn around to see tiny Alice start to walk down the aisle with her father. He's an incredibly tall man, and it serves to make her look even smaller than usual. She looks like a miniature princess, and I marvel at the force of nature that she is. There's no one else quite like Alice Brandon, and it makes me happy to know that Bella surrounded herself with such good people, such true friends. No matter what happens to us in life, I know with certainty that Alice and Jasper will always play a central role in it.

As they go through the motions of the ceremony, I realize how fortunate I am that these two readily accepted me into their friendship with Bella. I know that frequently, friends of your girlfriend's don't always become friends of yours, but that was never the case with these two. While I knew them before Bella and I started dating, it wasn't until our trip to Leavenworth that I really got to know them on a more personal level. Very quickly, her best friends became our best friends, for which I'm grateful. They've been such a great support system for Bella as she needed to recover from her meningitis.

Before I know it, Alice and Jasper are kissing, and their faces reveal a level of deep joy that I feel in my own heart when I look at Bella. Yes, she's incredibly sexy and gorgeous, but she's so many other things, too. When I think about the way she completes me, my feelings are so intense as to be overwhelming. Before I can even process these emotions, my eyes start to well up with tears, and it instantly dawns on me that what I'm feeling is love. Deep, abiding, emotional love. When my eyes lock with hers, she looks slightly concerned. We walk over to one another as we prepare to walk down the aisle after Jasper and Alice, and I give her hand a quick kiss as it joins with mine.

"God, I love you, Edward," she tells me as we walk down the stairs together.

"I love you too, Bella. I always have."

The rest of the wedding passes in a blur of toasts and confessions, drinking and dancing. The only thing that stands out in my mind is Bella. My entire world tonight is Bella.

As we dance slowly together, I lean over and kiss her bare shoulder, remembering the other parts of her that are bare as well. I hold her close enough to me that she can feel just how badly I want her.

"Edward, take me home now. I need you."

_She doesn't need to ask twice._

"As you wish, my girl."

I lead her outside, toward the limo I rented for the evening. We eagerly hop in, and drive off toward a future that will always include this stunning woman sitting right by my side, which is just as it should be.

**END NOTE: The patient crushing on Edward was my idea; making the patient gay is all thanks to my grammarbeta Lupin4Tonks. I include it here in honor of Pride weekend and New York State's landmark decision to allow same sex couples to marry, which makes me all kind of happy.**

**Nutella sex is for my lovely pregnant lady, mrskebab. **

**My hatred of **_**Mark Trail**_** goes back for eons. I blame it all on my baby sister, who maddeningly read it off to me when I didn't want to hear it. She and my dad are obsessed with that comic strip. You can see an example of it on my Live Journal page: kimpy0464 (at) livejournal (dot) com.**


	36. A Family Affair

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: ****Happy Anniversary to Mr. Kimpy and me. 24 years together, 7/11/87. **

**Things I own: One Incan God of Fertility, complete with PARKA PEEN which Mr. Kimpy brought for me as a present from his Peruvian Andes trek. Upon presentation of said gift, squeeing was heard for miles. (The Incan Goddess of Fertility is hidden away so as not to mess with Kimpy's tubal ligation, TYVM).**

**Things I don't own: Anything _Twilight_. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my story beta, Trinity/TFX, who makes sure my story is full of naughty sparkle. Thanks to my grammar beta, Lupin4Tonks, who constantly challenges me on the ins and outs of the English language. Ladyeire72 makes sure that none of you get bored into napping while reading TNJ.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: A FAMILY AFFAIR**

My alarm goes off at an annoyingly hideous time, but we have an early flight to catch, so it's a necessity this morning.

I pull Bella close to me, peppering her face with little kisses to wake her up gently.

"Mmm?" she says sleepily.

"Time to wake up, Princess."

"What the hell time is it?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Go hop in the shower, and I'll get some coffee brewing."

"Can't I just go back to sleep and dream that I'm getting ready?"

"Nope. The plane won't wait for us, baby."

She stretches her naked body and lets out a big yawn. "Damn. Well, it was worth a try."

I take a moment to ogle her beauty, her body that means everything to me. This is more than mere lust—I genuinely worship every single inch of this woman, body and soul.

She opens her eyes. "What, Cullen?"

"Nothing at all. Just admiring the view."

She flushes all the way down to her chest. "How can you even say stuff like that when you're so, you know, _you_? I mean, you just woke up, your hair looks like you had an all-night sex-a-thon, and you still look perfect. It's just not fair."

I merely roll my eyes at her. "You're so ridiculous it borders on obscene, Swan."

The emotion I felt last night, seeing her walk down the aisle, suddenly returns, and it's so intense I impulsively grab on to her, pulling her body in close to my own. My nose is buried in her neck, and all I can smell is Bella. All I can feel is Bella. If I died right now, this would go down as one of the happiest moments in my life.

I feel her small hands on my cheeks, and she pulls my face into hers. I'm met with a passionate kiss, and I have a sudden need to be inside her.

I glance over at the clock, and realize that I'm going to be cockblocked.

"I want nothing more than to sex you up slowly and properly, but we have to get going. The car is going to be here in 30 minutes."

"Car?"

"Yeah, I rented a town car to bring us to the airport."

"You didn't have to do that, you know. I already feel like such a mooch, getting a free trip England with the most fuckhot tour guide on the planet."

"Come on, Bella, I never get to do anything really special for you. Please don't make a big deal out of this. Please? Just let me do it my way, this one time? It means everything to me. You mean everything to me."

She gives me a look that is pure love, and I feel that surge of intense emotions return. I wonder if it will ever go away.

She heaves a big sigh and hauls her body out of bed. "All right, then. Let's get our asses in gear."

"I'll get your coffee in a mug to enjoy on our way."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Cullen."

**~xXx~**

We're flying to London on Virgin Airlines. They have impeccable service, and arguably the most comfortable first class seats in the industry. It's nearly impossible to find a direct flight from Seattle to London, so it takes about fifteen hours to get there. When you're spending more than half of your day on an airplane, that kind of comfort is a necessity.

Each first class seat has its own row, so you aren't sitting sandwiched next to anyone else, and privacy screens on either side of you. There's a built-in ottoman that can be used to store things, to put up your feet, or to have your smoking hot girlfriend sit and share conversation with you. Clearly, the latter is the option I'm most looking forward to taking advantage of.

As we board the plane, Bella's eyes go wide—she looks like a kid in a candy store. She's never been overseas, so she's never flown first class, and this is all very new to her. I've been doing this since I was a baby, so for me, it's all kind of old hat. Still, seeing her thrill in discovering all the amenities makes the experience feel fresh to me.

I hear a squeal of delight when she discovers her upper class snooze pack. It's nothing more than a bag with some toiletries, eyeshades, and earplugs, but Bella is so excited it sounds like she just won the lottery.

"Edward, they give you a little bag of goodies for the trip! Can you believe this?"

I chuckle at her amusement. She makes everything in life so much more enjoyable. When she turns around and has her eyeshades on, however, my amusement turns into lust in about 1.2 seconds flat.

I pull her closely enough to me that I can whisper in her ear. "Swan, if you don't want to be molested in front of thirty first class passengers, I suggest you remove those eyeshades."

I hear a small moan escape from her mouth, and it's more than I can take. "I fucking want you right now."

"Ms. Swan? Would you care for some champagne?"

I'm incredibly annoyed that the Flight Attendant interrupted my plan of attack. Bella looks at me, as if asking for permission. I just smile at her and nod my head.

"Why don't you make that two glasses?" I suggest.

"Of course, Mr. Cullen."

"Oh, it's _Doctor_ Cullen," Bella corrects. I know she did that on purpose when I see her smirk. I give her a look to convey I know what she's up to.

_Minx._

"What?" She tries the innocent gaze, but it has no effect on me. I grasp her hand and place it where she can feel the consequences of her actions.

"Dr. Cullen, you have a problem."

_Damn fucking straight I have a problem. And a fifteen-hour plane ride ahead of me._

"You're asking for it, Swan," I whisper.

"Oh yes. Yes, I am," she says, squeezing me. "Please."

I deftly remove her hand from my crotch as the Flight Attendant approaches with our champagne.

When we have the glasses in our hands, I propose a toast.

"To familial heritage and new beginnings."

Bella quirks her head to the side. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Cullen?"

"Well, we're going to the ancestral home of Lord Richard Cullen, and you're starting all over again after your illness."

She shrugs her shoulders. "Well, who am I to refuse a good glass of champagne?"

"Exactly," I reply, kissing her cheek.

We haven't had anything to eat yet, so the champagne takes effect on Bella rather quickly. She starts to giggle, and I look at her, puzzled as to what is so funny.

"I just heard the cork pop on the champagne."

"That's funny, is it?" I tease.

"It made me think of your dad. His cork is always popping when I'm around."

"What?"

"I mean, he's always opening a bottle of champagne, it seems. I might need to start calling him _Champagne Carlisle_," she giggles.

"My parents always have a bottle of champagne in their refrigerator. They don't believe it should be a once-a-year or special-occasions-only drink."

"I totally agree with them. Champagne is incredible."

"True. However, if you're going to be talking about popping corks, there is only one cork you need to worry about, and I would prefer that you not mention my father in conjunction with popping corks anymore."

"Trust me, even though Dr. Cullen the senior is one hot daddy, yours is the only cork I want to pop. Ever."

"That's more like it. Good girl."

The Flight Attendant returns to give us one last refill of champagne, then asks us to take our seats for departure.

Bella takes her time to get acclimated to the first class seats. She can't believe we get to order our meals whenever we want to. She's having trouble deciding between the pork tenderloin or the wild mushroom lasagna. I volunteer to get one while she gets the other, and we'll split them so she can enjoy both options.

"I _knew_ there must be some reason I fell in love with you," she coos to me.

"Funny. I always thought it was my penis that appealed the most to you."

In response to my statement, she starts the gigglesnorts once again.

"What has you giggling this time?"

She gets up from her seat and sits down on my ottoman.

"I have a great joke for you."

"Okay," I reply calmly. She continues to giggle, unable to get her words out. "I'm listening."

She snorts. "It's really bad."

I pause a moment, letting her catch her breath. Patiently, I tell her that I'm still listening.

"What's the useless bit of skin," she giggles, "that hangs off the end of a cock?"

"Well, you've never considered it to be useless before," I smirk. "In fact, I always thought it was a selling point in your eyes."

Bella is giggling so hard she can't speak. "Come on, it can't be that funny."

Her face is turning purple, and she's nodding her head up and down frantically. She takes a deep breath and seems to be ready to speak.

Giggle. "A…" she giggles some more. "MAN!"

"I'll show you useless, Swan," I growl at her.

She is being such an epic tease, I ponder taking a trip to the loo to relieve myself. My train of thought is broken by the Flight Attendant, who delivers our meals.

I check my watch to determine how soon we'll be arriving in London. I wonder if my cock will make it that long.

**~xXx~**

Bella returns once again to sit on my ottoman. She suggests watching a movie together. It's then that I notice her sitting position. She's wearing a skirt, which I'm convinced is a deliberate ploy to tease me. Her legs are parted, and she's leaning backwards, onto her arms. It makes her tits stick out prominently, and I can almost see her pussy. The shadow from her skirt is agonizing, just barely hiding her bits from my view.

She takes in a deep breath, which makes her tits pop out even further. The torture I'm facing right now is nothing short of pure misery. If we weren't surrounded by dozens of other people, she'd be straddling my lap.

"You know, we can't really make out very easily on this plane; the layout doesn't really allow for that. I think I might need to complain to Mr. Richard Branson about this."

"Well, there's plenty of room for you to sit on my lap. I'm sure the CEO of Virgin would approve of that kind of seat usage."

"There is, huh? That's what bad men always say when they want something from you."

I pull her onto my lap so she can feel exactly what it is that she does to me. "This bad man wants to do very bad things to you. We've already covered this, remember? You make me want to do that constantly."

"Mmm. So sad we can't do anything about your little problem," she teases.

"Little?" I lift an eyebrow at her.

"Pfft. Such an ego!"

I lean over to whisper in her ear. "You've never turned it away, Swan. Clearly, you have an addiction."

"You wish."

"Well, I can certainly start relieving my own stress. In fact, I think I'll just take a brief moment in the restroom right now, and everything will be more comfortable."

"You wouldn't!"

"Beat off in the bathroom to relieve myself? I most certainly would, you little tease." I rub my hard cock against her ass for emphasis.

"Don't even joke about that!"

"I'm not! I'm so fucking hard and you keep toying with me. Something's gotta give, here!"

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Her words would indicate sorrow, but her hips gyrating over my hard cock say something totally different.

"So she says after teasing me incessantly for the better part of this flight."

Turning her slightly so that she's facing forward, I scoot her bum down just a tad, so I can unbutton my fly and let my poor dick finally get some air. When she feels me, she lets out a very unguarded gasp, which forces me to remind her that she needs to be very quiet.

"Shh, Swan. Be quiet, and I'll give us both some relief. Put the blanket over your lap so that we're both covered up."

She does exactly as I say. Such a good girl.

My exposed cock is hard against her bare cheek; I made sure that she wore her thong today. Little did she know of my ulterior motives—I always planned to have her join the Mile High Club with me.

Moving her thong to the side, I can feel how wet her pussy is. My girl gets off on being naughty; I just love that about her.

Once again, I whisper into her ear. "You ready for my cock, baby?" She nods her head vigorously. "Remember to be quiet."

Grasping the base of my erection, I lift one of her bum cheeks enough so I can slide myself near her opening. My little minx does the rest of the work for me, wiggling her ass side to side until cock meets pussy and—_BINGO!_—we have liftoff.

Bella and I engage of some form of fucking, making love, or screwing like maniacs every day, sometimes several times a day. Even so, the feeling of sliding into her will never, ever get old to me. I love this woman to distraction, and when my cock is so far inside her that I can't possibly reach any further, it's the very best part of my life. I'm part of her, and she's part of me, and for those few exquisite moments, our worlds are truly one.

We've been teasing each other for hours, so I know it isn't going to take us long before we're ready to pop.

"Are you almost ready?" She nods once again.

I slide my hand from her hip over to her clit, very subtly, and start rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. She suddenly stops moving and grabs my thighs. I'm so far gone that I can't even wait to feel her. I grasp her hips and my orgasm washes over me.

As we both relax and recover, Bella reaches into her pocket and procures a package of Kleenex.

_Like she didn't know what we were going to be up to on the flight._

"I'm going to go clean up in the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute," she leans over and gives me a kiss.

As she walks away, I merely ogle her ass. I've become completely incapable of any non-sexual thoughts when it comes to Bella Swan. I have to propose to her, it's already a foregone conclusion.

When a woman owns her sexuality, when she has sexual confidence like Bella? There's nothing hotter. Smoking hot. Instant boner. And you know? It really doesn't matter if she's a curvy girl or an athletic trainer—sexual confidence is extremely alluring and persuasive. Bella has always conveyed that level of confidence in bed, and it makes her ten times sexier to me.

Sexual chemistry isn't something you can fake. It's bone deep, and it's raw. When you find the one person who literally turns you on—it's a precious treasure. I found that, and I'm never fucking letting Bella out of my sight. She's it for me. If the alternative ends up to be someone else, I don't want it at all.

I don't even want to think about her turning down my proposal. I'm nearly certain that she won't, but I can't be 100% positive. I know that marriage is something she's never desired, but I'm hoping she can see how it makes such logical sense for us to be together for the rest of our lives.

As Bella makes her way back to her seat, I get a nice view of her jiggling rack. She comes directly to me.

"Do you think they'd get mad if we snuggled up in your plane seat together? I'd like to take a nap."

"Well, as Billy Idol famously said, 'and since we let our first class passengers do pretty much whatever they want…' I'm sure it's just fine, baby."

I pull her into my lap and cover her with a blanket. She feels so right, sitting here with me.

"Just don't put on that eye mask, or you won't be getting any sleep," I warn her.

**~xXx~**

I'm surprised at the airport to find my mom and dad waiting for us as we exit the baggage claim area. I always take the car to Kent, and they hadn't made any other arrangements for us that I know of.

While I wait for our bags to appear, they both surround Bella, embracing her and welcoming her to England. My mother is practically glowing, she's so excited. I don't know if it's just that Bella is here with our family, or if it's all about the impending engagement, but it looks like she's floating on air. It makes me smile; she's such an amazing mom.

The drive to Kent takes about two hours, but there isn't a moment of silence the entire way. My mom peppers Bella with questions about the flight, and points out landmarks along the route.

When my mother finally stops to take a breath, my father gives Bella and me a bit of news from Seattle Children's.

"Yes, well, I had an interesting phone call yesterday," he tells us, enigmatically.

I quirk an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It appears as though someone on the housekeeping staff discovered a call room being used for something other than sleeping."

My eyes dart instantly over to Bella, who turns ten shades of scarlet. I wonder if this is my dad's code language for _Don't-you-dare-sex-it-up-in-a-call-room-again_.

A small smirk blooms on my dad's face. "Apparently Dr. Hale was attracting some attention with her volume level. The housekeeper thought someone was being injured, and walked in on Dr. Hale and Dr. McCarty, and they most assuredly were not sleeping."

I think back to when Bella and I got caught. I know the housekeeper, Barb; she's been at the hospital for years, but she never breathed a word about finding us together. McCarty was the one who told everyone about our little incident.

It occurs to me that Barb is most likely responsible for word getting out this time. I don't think there is a single individual in the entire hospital who doesn't have it out for Rosalie Hale, except possibly Emmett McCarty.

Bella recovers, and lets out a huge chortle of amusement. "You know, I'm so glad she got her comeuppance. It's about time!"

"Are you going to do anything about it, Dad?"

His amused smirk has turned into a full smile. "I think the damage has already been done, don't you?"

My dad, as always, is completely right in that. Dr. Rosalie Hale was discovered in flagrante with another doctor, in the hospital, and it sounds like she was baying like a hound dog. I'm sure there is probably no greater embarrassment she could face than that.

Bella gives me a fist bump. "Dr. McCullough on probation and Dr. Hale a laughing stock in the grapevine? Oh, karma is lovely."

"Oh, Bella! Look!" My mom commands.

Leeds Castle, the home of my ancestors, has come into view.

Bella's face is completely mesmerized. "It's so beautiful!"

My dad tells her without a single inkling of pretense, "It's where the Cullen family is from."

"It's known as 'the loveliest castle in the world,' Bella. I can't wait for Edward to show it to you."

"I'm sure it's a wonderful museum. I'll enjoy seeing it."

The three of us share an awkward pause. Bella notices it at once.

"What?" she says, concerned.

_How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that the castle belongs to my family?_

Before I can say a word, my dad glides right in with the perfect response.

"Uh, Bellar, about that. You see, in England, we have a peerage—a class of nobility that goes back for centuries. You've probably heard of Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, and the like; Lords happen to be the lowest rung on the nobility ladder when it comes to peerage. Some Lordships are hereditary; others are not.

"At one time, the Tudors owned Leeds castle. Henry VIII is infamous for the number of bastards he sired, but he only publicly acknowledged one of them. The others were conveniently born to mistresses who happened to also be married women. One of these bastards was a member of the Cullen Clan, which dates back to the days of Lord Richard Cullen of Kent. The Cullen name change occurred through the female line of familial descent, which is how the castle eventually changed hands from the Tudors to the Cullens. It was restored and updated in the early 1900s. When my father died in 1974, my mother created the Leeds Castle Foundation to operate the castle. We still own the Gamekeeper's cottage, which is where we'll be staying."

"So, you're telling me that you're actually _Lord_ Carlisle Cullen, M.D.?"

"I guess that officially I am, but I never use the title. It's meaningless to me, really."

"But it's hereditary, right?"

I know exactly where Bella is going, and I don't like it.

"Yes, Bella, it's hereditary, but it's nothing to worry about," I explain.

She turns to me, aghast. "Cullen, I just found out that your family owns a castle that was once owned by King Henry VIII, and I'm not supposed to be worried about it?"

"But it isn't like we're rubbing elbows with the Queen or anything. It's just that our family tree is a little more decorated than the average Joe."

Trust my mother to step in and provide exactly what is needed to reassure Bella.

"Bella, dear, look at me. I'm nothing more than a nurse who happened to marry an incredibly handsome devil of a doctor, and I come from a line of very simple people. I've lived all these years as Lady to my Lord Cullen, and I've survived with every bit of my humility intact. Trust me, it sounds more significant than it really is. What I have gotten is a beautiful family with whom I spend a month in England every summer. I'm just fine, and you will be, too."

She leans in and gives Bella a big, secure hug, and looks at me from over Bella's shoulder. I mouth the words, 'thank you' to her, and she just smiles at me. My mother is a force of nature, and I'm certainly not going to stand in her way.

**~xXx~**

We settle easily into the cottage, and it is my goal to give Bella a full tour of the grounds, the castle, and the part of my life that I've spent at Leeds. I know the best perspective is to see it on horseback, and that's exactly what we do. She hasn't ridden much, so I give her some basic lessons, and we take it slowly. I spend time showing her my favorite places, and recalling all the funny stories from my childhood.

"Was it ever lonely, being here as an only child? I mean, it's such a huge place."

"Not so much. I had a pretty vivid imagination, and my mom was always around. My dad was more active at the hospital then, of course, so he only came for a few weeks at a time. Mom and I would spend the entire summer here when I was young. It was busy, and there were always people around, working on the castle. I was just used to spending time with adults, I guess. My mom was determined for me to know and understand the importance of my heritage."

"I'm glad she did. It shows. You lit up the minute we got here."

"I love England. I love this place. Some of my best memories—" I hesitate. My best memories are with Bella. "Some of my best _pre-Bella_ memories all take place here. I learned how to ride a horse properly, and they even taught me the art of falconry."

"Oh my god, your life is like out of a storybook! I'd love to see that. Raptors are so beautiful and elegant."

"The Gamekeeper still does falconry workshops. Would you like to learn about it while you're here?"

"God yes! Are you sure they have time?"

"They have time to do whatever we arrange. Bella, there's nothing I will ever deny you… I want you to love it here as much as I do."

"I'm sure I will, Edward. It's the most incredible place I've ever been. I'm still pinching myself that you're going to be a Lord someday."

I roll my eyes. "It means nothing, I already explained that to you. It's of historical significance, and nothing more."

"Well, no matter what happens to us, you'll always be of historical significance to me, Lord Edward Cullen," she giggles.

"What's going to happen to us?" I ask, curious. I can't imagine why she's said that.

"You never know…" she hesitates.

As I recall the arduous moments I spent by her bedside, not knowing if she would survive, I simply respond with, "True, you never know."

**~xXx~**

I've managed to get Bella into Leeds Castle proper today, unaccompanied by anyone on the castle's staff. I want to show off the portrait wing to her, so she can take in what it means to be a Cullen. It isn't a proposal one can take lightly, after all. I want her to be well aware of what I'm getting her into.

As we walk among the many portraits, and I explain who they all are, Bella notices that no one else is around. It's a weekend, and she knows this place should be full of people.

"Edward, where is everybody?"

"I, uh, wanted to show it to you privately."

"You closed the castle down? To give me a tour?"

"Yes?"

She just shakes her head. "Cullen, you're amazing. When does the bad stuff enter into all of this?"

"The bad stuff? There's bad stuff?"

"Well, there has to be, somewhere. I mean, the more I learn about you, the more fantastic you are. Are you sure you don't mean to be with someone else? I'm just so… boring. And plain."

I sigh, exasperated. "Bella, how many times do I have to tell you? I fell in love with you the very first time I saw you. I had to work incredibly hard to even get you to notice me. I had to beat down all your defenses about not dating a doctor. Then, you nearly died on me. I mean, what do I have to do to convince you that you're the only person I will ever want?"

"I just… I can't… I don't understand…" she says, words suddenly failing her.

"If there is one thing your ordeal with meningitis taught me, it's that nothing in life is guaranteed. I almost lost you, and the life I had been imagining for myself disappeared. I don't want to bargain anymore, or lock my dreams away until I'm ready to experience them, because I might never get the chance to enjoy them. I want to savor every minute I have with you, Bella, for the rest of my life. I want to see what our children will look like. I want to grow old with you, god willing. I don't want to regret a single minute, because I don't know which one will be my last."

I sink down on one knee, in front of her, and her eyes go wide. "Bella Swan, I kneel in front of you here, at Leeds Castle, my ancestral homeland. I call upon all of my ancestors to give me their guidance and support at this very important moment—the most important moment of my life. I'm asking you to take a leap of faith. I'm asking you to join me, as the newest member of the Cullen family. It's where you truly belong; by my side, forever."

Instead of the small, velvet box I'm sure she's expecting, I place a silver fortune cookie into her open palm, with a fortune peeking out from within. She looks at me, her face a question, and I nod at her to open it.

I watch her carefully smooth out the fortune, and I feel my heart pounding out of my chest. The fortune contains two very small words, but to me, they are actually two of the most important words in the English language. I hear her breath catch in her throat, making an embarrassing kind of choking noise, and I'm instantly alarmed and worried.

_God, what if she says no?_

I look down at the fortune sitting in her hand, and feel lightheaded as I read it, even though I'm the one who wrote the words:

_Marry me?_

It's taking her an interminable amount of time to reply to my question. I'm still on my knee, on the centuries-old stone floor in the castle my ancestors built, and it's really starting to get uncomfortable. Both the pain in my knee _and_ her lengthened silence.

Without any warning, she grasps my face in her hands and delivers the most passionate kiss I've ever received. It's the sort of kiss that conveys everything, but still, what I really need right now are her words. Her acceptance. I can feel my lips being a bit hesitant, because I don't yet know the answer to my question. I think she might be trying to convey all the feelings that can never put into words, because they are so profound.

_And still. _

Still, I need my answer, and I'm dying a cruel death second by agonizing second of silence. Finally, she pulls her lips away from mine. Her voice and her hands are shaking, and I'm so fucking afraid of what her words are going to be.

"I love you so much, I need you so much, that I would even marry you if you were circumcised."

_Oh holy jesus thank fucking god!_

"Dr. Seuss once said, 'You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.' My reality is so much better than any dream could possibly be." She impulsively leaps up, wrapping her arms around my neck in a vise-like grip. "Yes, Edward. Yes. Yessss. Yessssssss. Yes."

Apparently, I've become drunk with love, because I'm still spewing nonsense when it comes time for me to use my own words, chanting _thank you_ over and over again. I'm grinning like the Cheshire Cat, and literally beaming with happiness.

"Cullen, as if I need to be thanked for agreeing to marry the most perfect man in the world!"

Bella is giggling over my exuberant behavior. I grab her hand and drag her off to find my parents, who have been stealthily hiding during my proposal.

"Mom, Dad, BELLA SAID YES!"

I hear a _pop!_ and before I know it, we're all standing together, champagne in our hands, looking at the portrait of Lord Richard Cullen of Kent.

In a moment of extreme filterfail, Bella blurts out, "Thank you, Lord Richard, for having big enough balls to sire these two incredibly beautiful Cullen men!"

As we hold our glasses high for a toast, I notice that both Bella and I are trembling from our intense emotions. I see her looking scared, so I lean over to give her a reassuring forehead kiss. I love giving her forehead kisses; it's like the crux of all I love about her, in one beautiful spot.

My father's gilded accent glides over his toast to us: "To Bellar and Edward. May your love and your lives both be long. May your union provide us with some much-desired grandchildren. And may you do the Cullen Clan proud. Welcome to the family, Bellar!"

She looks at me, shaking her head in incredulity. "How can I not melt right now?"

"Oh, that's simple; there is no other option. Go ahead and melt," I hold my arms out for her.

My mother has to rain on my parade, of course. "Dear, I know you gave her the fortune cookie, but aren't you forgetting something?"

I look at her, perplexed. She points to her ring finger.

"Oh, jesus. I can't believe I forgot!" I pull it out of my pocket and get back on one knee. "Bella, this ring has been passed through my family from Lord Richard Cullen of Kent. He designed it specifically for the woman he asked to be his Lady Cullen. I know it isn't the most beautiful ring, but it holds so much significance to my family. It would do me such an honor if you would agree to wear it."

It's a simple ring—the picture of the Cullen crest, surrounded by emeralds.

"Not only is it a family heirloom, Bellar, it's the ring I gave my Esme when we were engaged to be married."

"But, Esme, don't you need it? It's your ring?"

"There's actually nothing that would make me happier than to see it on your finger Bella, because I know that you're the only choice for my adored son. Please, wear it with pride, for me. For us. Carlisle has already given me a replacement."

She nods, and shakily holds her left hand out for me. I slide the ring onto her finger, and pull her in for a kiss.

_Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. _

Yeah, I like _The Princess Bride_. So sue me. I couldn't care less, because I'm going to marry Bella Swan.

**END NOTE: We have one more chapter, then an epilogue left. I want to thank you all for your incredible reviews and support for my little story. I worship every word you give me. Trust.**

**The foreskin joke is thanks to reader Mrs. Kebab, who welcomed her own little parka boy into the world last week. Congrats, my dear!**

**Airplane sex is for Lupin4Tonks. She hadn't read it before. Plus, like Dr. GEM is going to be on a 15-hour plane trip with Bella and _not_ have sex? Inconceivable!**

**Leeds Castle is located in Kent, England. While there was a real Lord Richard Cullen of Kent, I fictionalized that he lived in Leeds Castle; the Cullen family is actually from Sittingbourne, which is not far from where the castle is situated. It was the perfect destination for Edward and Bella. You can see the castle here: leeds-castle (dot) com (slash) land (dot) php. The Cullens were staying in the Keeper's House on the castle property.**


	37. All's Well That Ends Well

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: To err is human, and apparently, I'm very human. Reader kezcullen pointed out that I stretched the truth beyond credibility with some of the history in the last chapter. By bringing Carlisle's British heritage into the story, I knew that I would be fictionalizing history. However, there is one niggling detail that needs to be corrected: Lady Jane Grey never bore any children, and this has been well documented. She also happened to be executed 200 years before Lord Richard Cullen was born. I've made changes to the previous chapter to more accurately represent Lady Grey's history. My humble apologies.**

**Things I own: Two four-day passes (with preview night) to Comic Con 2012 that I procured after waking up at 4 AM and waiting in line for 4 hours. Yes, I am totally gloating over this, unabashedly.**

**Things I don't own: Anything _Twilight_. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who still puts up with me, after all this time. Thanks to my grammarbeta, Lupin4Tonks, who keeps me humble, and to Ladyeire72, for her constant encouragement. I love you all. **

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL **

"So now for the scary part," Bella tells me as we finally snuggle into bed.

"Baby, your naked body next to mine is never scary. I understand that you're blown away with awe over my magnificent and huge cock, but please don't be scared by it." I smirk as I bring her hand to rest on top of the very same magnificent and huge cock.

"Oh my god, Cullen, you're so full of yourself."

"It's hard to be perfect, but someone has to do it."

"Well, it _is _perfect to be hard."

We both start giggling, still completely buzzed from all the champagne we've consumed. It takes a few minutes for Bella to catch her breath and finish her thought process.

"No, it's scary because you have to call Charlie and ask him for my hand in marriage."

I stop breathing.

_Shit._

_How the fuck did you overlook that one, Cullen?_

"It's not so bad. Since we're in England, he'll be unable to shoot you."

"That makes me feel only marginally better."

"If you're going to be a Lord one day, you can handle a terse police chief from a tiny town in Washington."

Before I know what's even happening, the lights are on, Bella's naked body is ransacking our suitcases, and she's muttering about lost phones.

_If Bella's naked, what is she doing out of bed? Does. Not. Compute._

"Aha!" She says, as if she's discovered the secret to the universe. "Here it is! What time is it?"

"Doesn't it say on your phone?"

"Huh. I didn't think about that." She giggles at herself.

Clearly, Bella is still feeling the effects of the champagne. I, however, wish I could have a little bit more at this very moment to provide me with the courage I'll need to break the news to Charlie Swan. Social lube, if you will.

"Oh, this is great! Daddy will still be at the office."

"_Great _isn't the adjective I would choose to describe this particular task."

"Come on, Cullen! You've saved tiny babies from the jaws of death! If you can face that, Charlie Swan is like a walk in the park."

She hands me her phone, and I see the words, _Charlie Swan, call mobile_ on the screen, plastered over a photo of Charlie Swan himself. My eyes flit to the _end call_ bar that sits underneath his face. I really want to push that button.

I inhale deeply, preparing myself for this conversation, when Bella suddenly snatches the phone from my grip and promptly ends the call.

"Swan, wha—?"

"I have a brilliant idea. Edward, let's get married. Now. Here," she rambles, her voice lit with excitement. "We'll ask Charlie to join us. Just you and me, and our parents."

I feel like my brain exploded, I'm so confused. "When you use the word 'we…'" I start to clarify.

"I mean 'you,'" she clarifies in return.

I slowly nod my head in understanding. "So, I'm not calling your dad to tell him I proposed to you, I'm calling him to ask him to come visit us in England so I can marry you? How is this better than just telling him we're engaged? Any way I look at it, my balls are going to be on the barbeque for dinner. Besides, don't you want to share the day with all your friends?"

She pauses to consider my words. "No, I truly don't. The very idea of having to plan everything, the nerves of being on display in front of all those people, it's way too overwhelming. I just want you and our families. That much, I can handle. If it makes you feel better, we could have a reception for everyone when we get back to Seattle—that certainly works for me. I love you, I want to be your wife, and I want this now. I can't think of a more perfect place to be married than Leeds Castle. Lord Richard himself can ghost over us to bless our union, even." She's dissolved into a fit of giggles over that, so I'm still not convinced that she's completely serious.

"I'll tell you what. Since we're both a little silly from all the champagne, let's go to bed, and we'll call Charlie once we get up in the morning. Now get your naked ass back here so I can molest you some more, fiancé."

The minute our bodies touch, I roll on top of her, gathering up her small hands in mine. I kiss her heatedly, and she arches her back just so, which is all it takes for me to slide gently inside of her. Despite our silliness, our sex tonight is calm, quiet, and a bit awed. We understand implicitly that we just took the first step toward getting married, and it's a poignant, almost sacred moment for us. We keep our eyes on each other the entire time we're joined together. There's such an overwhelming look of love on her face, and I can only hope that she sees exactly the same thing in mine. When Bella climaxes, it's soft and slow, with a small whimper in response. The only part of me that is actively moving is my hips, so I'm rocking into her easily. When I feel my orgasm take over, I bury myself as deeply as I can inside of her, and we allow these feelings of intense love wash over us.

I fall to the side and feel Bella snuggle into me. I marvel once again that this woman is going to be all mine for the rest of our lives, and I fall asleep as the most confident and happy man in the world.

**~xXx~**

Well, I _was_ a confident man about 12 hours ago. Now? I have to ask Chief Charlie Swan for permission to marry his only daughter. I briefly ponder some more liquid courage, but that only earns me a scowl from my otherwise adorable fiancé.

_Fiancé. _I relish the word in my head, knowing that the only one I prefer more is _wife_. I can't wait to marry this amazing woman, and I'm so glad she decided to do it all in one fell swoop. For some reason, Bella Swan keeps making every day better—she owns every single one of the happiest moments in my life.

I keep the vision of Bella wearing my ring on her finger as I dial the phone. I try to remain calm, but my heart is hammering away in my chest.

"Bells!" I don't know that Charlie has ever addressed me with such warmth.

"Uh, no, Charlie, it's Edward."

"Edward? What's wrong?"

I decide to cut to the chase immediately. "Well, nothing, actually. I, uh… might have gone about this in the wrong order… um, I asked Bella to marry me last night, and she said yes. I should probably have asked for your permission first, but I really wanted it to be a surprise for her. Could you still give us your blessing, even though it's after the fact?"

"Engaged?" His voice sounds slightly choked. "Hmm."

This is one of those moments in a conversation where the silence is incredibly awkward—so awkward, in fact, that you feel compelled to fill it with gibberish. I know Charlie Swan, however, and I understand that he's a man of few words. He would not be overly appreciative of word vomit, especially while he considers blessing his future son-in-law's request. Thus, while my brain wants very badly to engage in silence-breaking word vomit, sinking my teeth into my tongue saves me from impending disaster.

"And she said yes?"

"Uh, yes. She did."

"Huh."

More silence. Should I say something? I stand in place, waiting for him to respond. The seconds that tick away are pure agony.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Bella grabs the phone from me, frustrated at the conversational impasse her father and I have reached.

"Daddy, I love Edward, and we're going to get married. You can either bless us or not, but it's still going to happen, regardless. Oh, and we're going to get married here, next week."

I can hear Charlie's response, loud and clear. It turns out that the chief has a voice when he needs one.

"Yes, Dad, that's right. I _don't_ want to wait. I found out that Edward's family used to own the castle, and so we want to get married here."

I hear a few more stern words.

_How could my family being wealthy be a bad thing?_

"Well, it turns out that Carlisle is actually Lord Cullen, a title that will pass down to Edward." She pauses to take in her father's words. "Yeah, it's a pretty big deal. I want to get married now, because I don't want to have a big wedding, and I still can't picture my wedding day…" Bella's voice cracks, and I realize that she has started to cry. She tears up silently for a few moments then gathers her breath. "Without Mom."

I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head, doing what I can to make this less painful for her.

"Yes, it'll be easier for me if it's just family. That means you need to get some time off from work so that you can join us. We'll take care of your ticket, of course."

She hands the phone to me, unable to speak further due to her tears. "Sir, it's Edward again."

"Mmm," he grumbles wordlessly. The silence resumes, and wraps around us like a straight jacket—it's not only awkward, but also constraining. Just when I'm ready to say something, he breaks the silence. "You promise to take care of my girl, and we have a deal."

"I can't possibly do anything less than that, Charlie."

"All right, then."

"We'll be in touch with more details about the wedding. Bella is already working on the flight arrangements for you."

"M'kay."

And with that, Charlie hangs up the phone. I hate to think what it would be like to ask for his blessing if the man disliked me. We definitely formed an important bond while Bella was ill, but it seems as though he'll always be protective and vigilant with his daughter, which is absolutely as it should be. She's a precious girl.

I turn my attention back to Bella. "You okay, love?"

"Yeah. There are bound to be more tears when I think of my mom, but I'll be fine."

"Well, should we go break the news to your other mother?"

She gives me a blissful smile. "Yes! She's going to be so happy!"

I shake my head at her. "You really have no idea. She's going to be a force to be reckoned with, I promise you."

**~xXx~**

I thought that my mother's happiest day was yesterday, when I got engaged. It turns out that announcing our plans to have a small, private ceremony at Leeds Castle has made her even happier. 

"Esme, love, if I didn't know better, I'd swear to god you were under the effects of… well, something that isn't legal."

My mom just beams at my dad and giggles. "Mmm, I feel like I am. I just couldn't be any happier than I am right now. Everything is perfect."

Bella looks just as happy, knowing how much she's pleased my parents with her request to get married during our vacation _and_ at Leeds. She's even allowing my mother to make all the plans. She didn't want to deny my mom the one chance she has to be involved in planning her son's wedding.I'm amused by my mother's giddiness, but I'm worried that Bella is going to regret ceding everything over to her future mother-in-law. 

I pull her quietly aside as my mother is on the phone making arrangements. "Bella, are you certain this is what you want to do? I mean, I just want to marry you; I don't give a crap about the specifics."

She gives me her perfect, stunning smile. "Edward, I love you, but if you ask me that question one more time, I'm going to kick you in the nuts," she warns. "Have you ever considered me to be an unassertive person? Trust me, I'm very sure. End of story." 

"I can't believe you would sacrifice the junk out of sheer annoyance, baby. That's cruel."

"Just making sure you understand my level of commitment."

"Understood. Now, about getting married at the castle…"

"Yes?"

"Bella, I have to insist that the arrangements will be made by my family."

She gives me a confused look. "Well, I told Esme she could do the planning…"

"No, I mean actually paying for the wedding."

"Oh. Right. Paying. Shit."

"Look, it's my family's ancestral home, we have an in with the Leeds Castle Foundation, and it's only natural that we cover the costs."

"I don't feel okay about that, Edward. It's supposed to be my family's responsibility."

"I understand that, but my family used to own the castle. It only makes sense."

"It seems wrong to me, letting you take on so much. Couldn't we split the costs?'

"Baby, be pragmatic. It's no financial hardship on my family. Why don't you pay for something else? Your dress, perhaps? Would that make you feel better?"

Bella pouts a little bit, but ultimately concedes this point. "It makes me feel _moderately_ better. Dammit." She gives me a rueful smile.

I shamelessly pull out some crimples to distract her, then kiss her perfect lips, and the argument is quickly forgotten.

**~xXx~**

**BPOV**

As much as I want to see my dad, it's up to the Cullen men to fetch him. Apparently, I need a day of last minute tailoring, pampering, and high tea before the wedding, according to Esme. As Edward once warned me, his mother is tenacious; he wasn't kidding. However, her tenacity is perfect, because planning a wedding is one of the last things I would ever want to do. I'm relieved every day when I realize that I don't have to go through months and months of this stuff. Not only that, but I get to enjoy the day with one of my favorite people in the world, Esme Cullen.

Esme has booked a day at the nearby Hempstead House in Sittingbourne. She arranged for the tailor to meet us there for my final fitting. While we wait for the alterations to take place, she's treating me to high tea (so I can experience it at least once in my life), and we're getting massages at the spa.

The dress we ordered online is a knockoff of the one worn by Kate Middleton's sister, Pippa, for the royal wedding. Edward would never admit to this if I confronted him, but he went on and on about Pippa's luscious bum in that dress. Seeing how much he appreciates my own derriere, I thought I would surprise him by wearing the same dress. The best part is that the design has no train, so I have nothing to trip over. I recognize that my clumsiness will always be a part of me, but I don't want to have to worry about it on my wedding day. It was Esme's idea, of course. I swear, she thinks of everything. I absolutely adore her.

Esme managed to find a beautiful crystal tiara for me, very subtle but elegant. I decided not to have a veil, because there's really no need for one. Everyone knows what I look like, and Edward will appreciate seeing my blush when the attention focuses on me. The tiara design has some sapphire blue crystals, which will make Edward go bonkers. He loves that color with my skin and hair, so it's the one stipulation I gave to Esme as she started her search. It will also serve as my "something blue."

We run off to the spa to get a wonderful massage, and before I know it, it's time to sit down for high tea; it's magnificent. Esme reserved a private dining room just for the two of us. We have champagne, all kinds of tea and coffee choices, delicious fruited scones with clotted cream, finger sandwiches, and tiny lemon curd tarts.

"Esme, you understand that I'll never be able to thank you enough for all you've done for me. I feel like I will forever be in your debt."

She gives me a very stern look. "First of all, you're not making me do anything I don't wish to do, so you need to hush up about it. Second, I've never seen my son happier in his life, and there's nothing—_nothing_—in the world that means more to a mother than the happiness of her child. Last of all? You're my daughter, Bella. This is what mothers do for their girls. Thank you for allowing me the chance to do it. You're really a dream daughter-in-law, you know. I'm so lucky."

"I think the luck is all with me, so I guess that means we're even."

She clinks her champagne flute with mine, and we drink to each other.

"I wonder how our boys are doing at the moment," Esme muses.

"You know, for all his piss and vinegar, I think my dad was actually afraid to fly here. I'm not sure he's even been on a plane before, come to think of it."

"We'll get him relaxed with some melatonin tonight, and that should help him with any jet lag. We have a big day planned tomorrow, after all."

I let out a little squeal of excitement and a huge grin when it registers that I'm getting married tomorrow. It's going to be so much fun.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Seeing that it's Edward, I look at Esme for permission to answer. She winks at me.

"Hey," I say shyly.

"We made it back to Leeds without incident. Somehow, my father has turned Charlie into Mr. Chatty."

He can't be talking about _my_ dad. "No, I don't believe you. It's simply not possible."

Edward holds out his phone, and I hear laughter, clinking glasses, and loud, boisterous conversation in the background.

"Did you two get my dad _drunk_, Edward?" I accuse.

"Wha…? I… no, of course not."

"Uh huh. I believe you," My tone communicates that I think he's full of shit.

"He might have had a little bit of Scotch when we got home."

"I knew it!" I giggle. "Well, it will probably be good for him to loosen up. Your mom and I will be leaving soon."

"I can't wait to have you home."

"I can't wait to be home. I love you."

"Pretty sure I love you more. Hurry back to me."

**~xXx~**

When we get home, I greet my happily buzzed father and Carlisle. Charlie is so used to drinking his Vitamin R that the Scotch hit him hard. Well, that on top of being jet lagged.

"Bells, Carlisle is going to take me fishing tomorrow. Apparently, the lake here at Leeds Castle is well-stocked."

I walk over to Carlisle and give him a small kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for making my dad so happy. You're wonderful, you know."

"I'm thrilled to have someone who will fish with me, to be honest. Edward was always a little too intense to appreciate the subtleties of fishing."

Edward shakes his head. "I'll leave that to the two of you. I want to make sure there are plenty of fish for you to catch, after all," he grins.

Tonight, we're going to have a small, pre-wedding dinner here at the Cullen's cottage. I've decided to surprise Edward with a Hob Nobs groom's cake, similar to the one Prince William had for his wedding. The Prince's version uses tea biscuits; I plan to substitute them with Hob Nobs.

I'm lost in my work when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind.

"You're so beautiful."

I turn around to look at my fiancé, and he has a loopy grin on his face. "Jesus, don't tell me that you're all drunk!"

"Noo, baby, just loose and happy."

"Mmhmm. In other words, drunk"

"I just wanna feel you up a little bit," he says, pawing my ass.

"Sweets, I need to finish this before dinner. I can't do that if my ass is in your hands."

"Oh, I bet you could. You've always been an incredible multi-tasker."

He bends down and kisses me, and before I know it, I've forgotten completely about what I was doing.

Edward's tongue tastes like Scotch. I instantly want to prolong our kiss to savor it mingled together with his own unique taste—I could never get enough of it. The Scotch just makes it more interesting.

I let a small moan escape, but it's interrupted by someone clearing their throat. I break the kiss and look around Edward's body to see my dad. I instantly stiffen, causing Edward to turn around, too.

"I'm, uh… I…" my dad stumbles. "Edward, you're supposed to leave Bella alone so she can finish what she's doing and join us in the drawing room."

"Oh, right," Edward says, smoothly. He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead then walks over to join my dad. "Hurry and finish up, baby. We'll be waiting for you."

I'm all hot and bothered from that little incident as the two of them walk away, but I realize with a deep sigh that I do need to finish this up so it has time to set before dinner.

**~xXx~**

Our rehearsal dinner is catered, and it's scrumptious. Esme focused on Edward's favorite foods, since the night before the wedding is considered the groom's dinner. That's specifically why I chose the Hob Nobs cake as a finale.

Carlisle opens bottle after bottle of incredible wine, and we're toasting one another almost non-stop. It's a raucous affair, with laughter, and shouting, and high spirits. Inappropriate stories of youthful mishaps are told by both families, much to the chagrin of Edward and me.

I think my dad has said more tonight than during the entire time I've known him. It's absolutely delightful to see him become chatty and animated. Who knew all it took was jet lag and Scotch to get the guy going? I'm seeing a side to him I've never seen before, and it's as if he's giving me my wedding gift early.

Naturally, sitting next to my very buzzed fiancé has led to some heated under-the-table groping. Edward Cullen never needs an excuse to accost me, but I have to say that he's definitely more gregarious than usual.

I'm wearing a skirt, Edward's favorite, and he's working his hand up the inside of my thigh. I'm trying very hard to keep calm and cool, but it's no use. I keep seeing images of his long fingers in my head, and I know exactly what those long fingers are capable of doing.

A sudden brush over my bare pussy makes his hand freeze where it is. He turns and looks at me, wild-eyed. I just smirk and nod at him, acknowledging that I am sans panties.

He leans over to whisper in my ear, "You're so naughty, Bella Swan. I'm seconds away from leaning you over this table and fucking you silly."

His words to straight to my crotch, and I clamp my hand on his thigh to regain some control. Fortunately, everyone else at the table is caught up in conversation and ignores the two of us. I need to get Edward's focus away from my lady bits, at least until we leave the table.

"What do you say we leave these drunken sods to their ridiculous lies about our childhoods and go snog in some corner?"

"I'd love to, Edward, but then you'd miss my surprise."

His eyebrows rise, and a slow, happy grin blooms on his face. I marvel once again how damn lucky I am. Edward Cullen is just plain fuckhot, no matter how you look at him. I lean over and snuggle into his side.

"Carlisle, I'm wondering if you could serve the champagne while I go get the cake."

He looks up at me, surprised by my interruption. "Why yes, Bellar, of course I will. Lead the way, my dear girl."

Edward gives me the most forlorn and pouty look I've ever seen, and I whisper to him, "Later." That's all it takes to plant a huge, sloppy smile on his face.

In the kitchen, I retrieve the cake from the refrigerator and loosen the sides of the pan. Carlisle sets the bottle of champagne on the counter and stops my motion. He gently cradles my head in his hands and gives me a sweet kiss on my cheek. He lets out a happy sigh, and hugs me.

"Bellar, I cannot tell you what your presence means to my whole family. I never imagined that gaining a daughter would feel so natural and right. It's as if you were born to be with us. I truly love you, my girl."

I start to tear up, all emotional from the wine and my overwhelming sense of happiness. "Oh, Carlisle. You've all given me so much, and I never knew it was what I needed to be truly happy. Thank you for accepting me into your family so easily."

We hug, losing ourselves in the comfort of our proximity, until Edward comes into the kitchen.

"Hands off the merchandise, Dad! We need the champagne, and I need Bella."

Carlisle chuckles and gives me a kiss on the top of my head. "Just letting your girl understand how much we all love her, son. Here you go."

He hands me off to Edward, who quickly pulls me into his arms. "I missed you."

"I've only been gone for a couple of minutes, you goof. Now let me get the cake ready."

"I'm going to have my wicked way with you in here."

"Cullen, my dad is about 12 feet away from us. No way."

He sighs deeply. "Damn. I was hoping a healthy dose of crimples would make you forget."

I push him away, giggling and place the cake onto a serving platter. That's when Edward turns his attention away from me and toward the plate.

He looks at me, then at the plate, and back at me. "Baby, is that what I think it is?" he says hopefully.

I nod in response.

"Jesus god in heaven, I love you!" He avows.

"I know. Let's serve this puppy up, okay?"

That's all it takes to get him in motion toward the table, yanking my free hand to hurry me along.

I set the cake on the table and cut it into slices, while I explain why I've made it.

"Daddy, the Cullen men love Hob Nobs, so I've made a special Hob Nobs cake for my handsome groom."

"Do I even want to know what a Hob Nob is?" My dad cringes.

"It's a British tea cookie, Dad, made with oats and brushed with milk chocolate. They're delicious."

"Oh," he says, embarrassed.

"Trust me, you'll love them."

I distribute a slice to everyone, and we're digging in when my dad clears his throat and lifts his champagne flute.

_Charlie is going to give a toast?_

"Bella, you've been my angel since the moment you were born. You've always been smart as a whip, and the best girl a father could ever want. You helped your mom, you've always helped me, and I'm happy to give you up to a man who loves you at least as much as I do. To you, my girl."

Everyone answers, "To Bella." I blush furiously as the flutes clink together.

Edward turns and kisses my flushed cheek. "I love you, baby."

After a small awkward pause, Carlisle prompts us to eat. "Come on, now, let's sample this delicacy!"

I'm rewarded with sounds of mouth orgasms, and I take a taste for myself. It is completely nommely.

"If it's good enough for Prince William, then it's good enough for the Cullens, too. William's version uses tea biscuits, but I thought the Cullen boys would prefer Hob Nobs. It looks like I was right," I observe.

"Bellar, if I hadn't already pledged my undying love to my dear wife, I'd pledge it to you after eating this cake."

"Back off, Dad," Edward growls at his father, then turns his attention back to me. "All I can say is that had you chosen to make this recipe rather than your apple pie, you would never have made it out of the physician's workroom unscathed. Jesus, you're an absolute miracle. Are you really mine?"

He's staring at me when Esme pipes in.

"My boys might have made their claims on you, but I wholeheartedly concur—I'd go to the Dark Side for you, Bella. This is positively sinful."

"Bells, you can make this for me any time. I'm with the Cullens on this one."

I'm overwhelmed by all the compliments, as well as the champagne. I feel so happy, light, free. I look over at Edward, recognizing once again that I get to go home with him every night for the rest of our lives. Life just doesn't get any better than this.

**~xXx~**

Esme has a schedule full of fun events planned for our wedding day. We decided to take the entire day to celebrate, since we have such a small wedding group. Edward and I spent a difficult night apart, but I wanted to be able to get a good night's sleep for the wedding. I should have known it was a bad idea; I always sleep more soundly when Edward is with me.

We get up at the crack of dawn; the plan is to take a balloon ride so we can view the castle's splendor at sunrise. I've never ridden in a balloon before, so I'm thrilled to have this opportunity. Charlie opts to stay on the ground, even though I try to coerce him to join us. For all his gruffness, I'm surprised to learn he's afraid of heights. I guess he always wanted to appear infallible and strong for me, especially after Mom died. It's a tad unsettling to witness his vulnerability.

Edward holds me at his side during the entire ride, and I can't imagine a more beautiful, perfect moment. We're in the air as the sun rises, and once the light hits the castle, it appears to glow. It's utterly quiet and peaceful, except for the sound of the hot air. To speak right now would ruin the solitude of the moment, so we just enjoy the sensation of being close to each other and take in the beauty of the Kent countryside. I almost want to pinch myself to affirm that this is all really happening—I recognize that I'm going to be part of the history of this place, in some small way_. _

The ride is over far too soon, and we enjoy a champagne brunch afterwards. It's turning out to be a perfect, sunny day, if a bit cool. My dad and Carlisle cut brunch short in order to get some fishing done before the ceremony. It's their preferred way of passing time while they wait.

Esme has hired a stylist to do my hair and make-up, which seems ridiculous, given that it will be just the six of us. She promised me that I'll want to look my best in the pictures that we'll be taking, for posterity's sake. I merely acquiesce, knowing that she's probably right.

I have no idea what Edward is up to, but I don't get the chance to see him before the ceremony. Esme wants to make sure we preserve that tradition, "for good luck." I giggle at her superstitious nature, but allow it. I want Edward to be pleasantly surprised when he sees me; he has no idea that I'll be wearing Pippa Middleton's dress.

All my preparations take place at the castle, so there's no chance anything will happen to my gown before the wedding. My hair is styled very simply—loose, wavy curls that are pulled back, leaving a few loose tendrils hanging. The style allows the tiara to be shown off, instead of being hidden among my curls. My make-up is equally as simple, natural tones that enhance my face subtly and make my skin glow.

When we pull on my dress, I hold still for the damn buttons to be fastened; it seems to take forever.

"There, all finished," she finally tells me. "Turn around so I can get a good look at you."

I follow her command, looking up at her timidly.

"Oh, my daughter, you're stunning." Her voice cracks a little, and I can see tears forming in her eyes. "Edward will be so pleased."

I feel myself blush, and start to get emotional. I worry about smearing my make-up until the stylist reminds me that he used waterproof mascara. Thank goodness, because I'm sure that I'm going to tear up here and there this evening; it can't be avoided.

I hear a rustling noise and look up to see my father standing in the doorway. "Oh, Bells…" he exclaims softly.

I reach out my hands to indicate that I'd like a hug. "Daddy."

"You look so perfect," he tells me. "I'm so proud of you, my girl. Your mother would have been so happy to see you like this." My eyes start to leak out a fresh rush of tears, and he gives me a kiss on my cheek. "Shh, it's all right. She knows, she knows."

He turns to Esme, "So, we're on in about five?" he asks.

She quickly checks her watch. "Yes, that's right."

I feel my stomach flutter. _Five minutes?_

I can do this.

Esme comes over to do some last minute preparations. "All right, so we have your engagement ring, which is something old, your tiara has your something blue, your dress is something new. I have an idea for your something borrowed."

"Oh?"

"I have an old pair of drop pearl earrings. Would you like to borrow them?"

"Esme! Of course I would love to. Thank you so much for thinking of this."

She takes a moment to put them in my ears, and steps back to admire them.

"Edward's charm bracelet! I almost forgot! Would you put it on for me, please?" I ask.

"Edward will be so thrilled to see you wearing this, Bella."

"I know. It means so much to me, too."

After she finishes attaching the bracelet, she gives me a small kiss and a big hug. "Now, are you ready?"

"Can I have a moment to myself?"

"Of course. We'll be waiting for you in the Henry the Eighth room."

Edward and I chose to be married in the Henry the Eighth banquet room, because it overlooks the lake, it's a beautiful room, and it's a nod to Edward's heritage. While I'm excited to join him there, I'm also a little nervous. I'm not sure exactly why, because I know on a very deep level that this is exactly what I want. Edward is absolutely, positively meant to be the man for me, for the rest of my life.

I remind myself that it's just a small group of people and that I can do this. I take a deep breath in and out. There's a gentle tap on the door, and my dad sticks his head inside.

"You ready, kiddo?"

I smile at him. "Yeah. Yeah, I am, Daddy."

**~xXx~**

**EPOV**

Bella appears in the doorway, escorted by Charlie, and I feel my chest constrict when I see her—she totally takes my breath away. Her dress is very simple, but she's positively radiant. Then it dawns on me that she's in the same dress that Kate Middleton's sister wore to the royal wedding. I might have mentioned how fine Pippa's ass was in that dress, and now here is my Bella, wearing the same thing. I can't wait to take a peek at her rear; I'm sure it puts Pippa's to shame.

I notice the way the dress falls over her tits, and all thoughts of virtue and purity fly out the window. It feels wrong to want to sully the fuck out of her, but seeing her like this, knowing that it's all for me, fills me with a deep sense of pride and possession. As she walks toward me, all I can think of is how easy it will be to unravel her hair, and I imagine how it will bounce along with her tits while I'm fucking her.

_This is your wedding day, Cullen, concentrate on her innocence. Jesus._

Her walk across the room gives me the opportunity to take her all in. The extra time doesn't make me any less lascivious, but when I see Charlie, my thoughts obligingly drift back to where they should be. Bella just smiles at me, and I'm toast. This woman totally owns me.

When they finally get to where I'm waiting for her, Charlie gives Bella a kiss on her cheek. He puts her hand in mine, and I nod my head at him in quiet thanks.

I quietly tell Bella she looks beautiful and give her hand a squeeze. When I smile at her, she mutters something like "damn crimples" to me. She whispers, "That tux makes me want to do wholly improper things to you."

_Fuck yes._

"It's hard to resist the crimples, I completely understand."

She gives a slight stomp on my foot, and I grin at her.

Since our wedding is merely a civil ceremony, it only lasts about ten minutes. We both agreed ahead of time that since it's just the two of us and our families, there's no need for writing our vows, or reading poems, or anything like that. The sooner we can get to celebrating our marriage, the better.

"Would you like to kiss your bride, Dr. Cullen?"

I start the kiss, but Bella gives it life. A little bit too much life in front of our families, so I have to end it as well when I hear more than one person in the room clearing their throats.

"Later, love," I whisper, and watch a gorgeous blush bloom over her face.

**~xXx~**

We sit down for a festive wedding dinner in the Henry the Eighth room, buoyed by the champagne and the happiness we all feel. I have to admit, my mom did a bang up job planning this whole affair. It's been an unforgettable day.

Although it's just our families in attendance, they've been clinking on their glasses nonstop, begging us to indulge in kiss after kiss. Fortunately, we're both happy to oblige.

I'm surprised when Bella herself stands to give a toast. "Edward, I recognize that we're in the Henry the Eighth room right now. It's where we were married, and it's where we're celebrating. And while I know that we can't choose our families, I want to make sure you understand—very clearly—that while Henry might've had six wives, you only get the one," she grins at me in triumph.

Laughing, I reply, "I duly promise not to chop your head off."

Chief Charlie Swan isn't nearly as amused by my comment as is the rest of the wedding party. Bella sees this, and explains it to him.

"Daddy, Henry the Eighth had six wives, and he beheaded two of them. He broke with the Catholic Church in order to be able to divorce his first wife, creating the Church of England. He divorced another wife and considered chopping the head off his sixth wife. Not a very good record. I expect better from Edward, however."

Charlie's eyebrows furrow as Bella recounts the story, and reacts with a "Hmph."

"Trust me, Charlie, I know that you carry a firearm in your line of work. I'll do everything in my power to honor your daughter every single day for the rest of our lives."

I grab Bella's hand to kiss it, and she lets out a huge yawn. I need to get her to bed. I open my mouth to make an excuse to call it a night, but my mom beats me to the punch.

She hugs Bella, and places an envelope into her hands. "This is your wedding gift, from Carlisle and me."

Bella takes the envelope from my parents, opening it carefully and reading the contents. "I don't understand… what… it can't be…?"

My parents conferred with me about their gift before deciding upon it; I explain the situation to her. "It's the title to their house, Bella. They're giving it to us, so we have plenty of space to start a family."

Her jaw drops and she turns to my mom. "But, it's your home! Where are you going to live?"

My father takes his new daughter by her hand. "My lovely Bellar, it's very simple. We're going to trade homes. We'll downsize to live in Edward's condo, and you'll take over our larger home. It's time. The house is far too big for just the two of us."

"But, you can't give a house away!" My beautiful girl dissolves into tears. It's been a very long, emotional day.

My father gives her a kiss on her forehead, closing her hand over the sheath of paper. "You must take it, my sweet daughter, and fill it with love and grandbabies. Besides, Darcy and Elizabeth prefer you anyhow. I'd hate to disappoint the dogs by denying them of your daily presence."

She blushes and her voice cracks as she mutters in grateful disbelief, "Thank you. So much. I can't believe it."

I come up behind her, slipping my arms around her waist. She interrupts my thoughts when she leans over and whispers in my ear, "Take me to bed, Edward. I need you."

For the benefit of our parents, I announce our departure. "Come, love. You're very tired. Let's get you to bed."

She continues to sniff away her tears, but grabs my arms and hugs them more tightly around her body. "Mmm," she agrees.

Without having to utter another word to our parents, who've been witness to this magical kind of love that Bella and I share, I take her by the hand and lead her off to our room.

We're sleeping in one of the castle rooms tonight, so we have the entire place to ourselves. It's just as well, because there is no way in hell we're going to be quiet, and I certainly don't want Charlie Swan to hear exactly what it is I'm doing to his little girl. As I carry her over the threshold and shut the door behind us, I head straight for the buttons running down Bella's back.

_Damn, her ass _is_ finer than Pippa's. I'm such a lucky bastard._

I near the bottom of the buttons, which reveals my first peek at that fine bum. I can't help myself; I slip my hands between her dress and her ass, giving it a healthy squeeze.

"Fuck, Mrs. Cullen, I need you."

Bella slides out from her dress, leaving it in a pile on the floor. She's in nothing but lingerie—garter, thigh highs, and sheer bra and panties. The very sight leaves me rock hard for her.

I watch her hands reach around to the front of her, fumbling with something. She starts to speak in an affected manner, so I turn her around to see just what my little minx is up to.

"Edward, I'm just… so… sleepy," she yawns, stretching her arms above her head. The action makes her tits appear like round globes, and I want nothing more than to have them in my mouth. "I can't be bothered at all right now. In fact, I think I need to put on this VIRGIN AIRLINES SLEEP MASK to make sure I get a really restful snooze in tonight," she says as she hops onto the bed.

I hone in on her face the second that mask is down over her eyes—she was merely pretending to be sleepy?

I pounce on top of her like a panther, mouth to her ear.

"You really shouldn't have done that."

She wiggles underneath me, all happy energy that I'm playing along. She genuinely has no idea—she might think that I was playing when I warned her before not to put on that mask, but she's about to see how fucking serious I am. It does unreal things to my libido. I grab her hands and hold them above her head, tightly. She needs to understand what this shit does to me.

"You are such a naughty girl, Mrs. Cullen. I was planning to be all slow and loving but now I'm going to have to fuck you senseless," I warn her. "Keep those hands above your head unless you want to be spanked."

Does she listen to me? No, she does not. She deliberately takes those hands and puts them at her side, taunting me.

I decide to give her another chance. "I'm not kidding, Bella. Hands up."

She beams out a grin and shakes her head, giggling.

_Fucking hell_.

I grab her hips and turn her over while pulling her up onto all fours. "You asked for it, baby," I explain, and swiftly deliver a round of spanks. She squeaks after each one, excitedly. When I finish, she wiggles her ass at me.

"Is that all you got, Cullen?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

More wiggles. I swat her harder this time, but instead of cute little squeaks, I get some moans.

I rub my palm over her pussy, noting how wet she already is. "You're ready? Something makes me think that being married has only increased your wantonness."

I hear her gasp. "Fuck, yes."

I waste no time getting down to business; I turn her onto her back, ogling her in her lingerie. I love Bella, but this is going to be neither slow nor gentle nor loving. Whenever Bella has the sleep mask on, she's going to get fucked. It's a fact of life.

"Hands. Above. Your. Head," I grunt out menacingly in a rough voice.

At a moment such as this, I can't be bothered by things like buttons and zippers. They require too much handling. I shove Bella's bra up, exposing her tits. She has her blue barbells on, just for me. The minute I see them, they're in my mouth. I grumble in frustration with my zipper—I'm a desperate man here, and it fucking needs to cooperate with me. I finally get it down and yank my cock free. Shoving her panties to one side, I place the head of my cock right in her entrance. I thrust into her as deeply as I can. My pace is frantic, because I just can't get enough of her. I could be married to her for the rest of my life, and I will still never have enough. My mind is so clouded, I can't even think straight. All I can hear is the slapping of our skin together and Bella's grunts in time with each one of my thrusts. Neither one of us says a word. Bella's eyes are concealed, and mine are shut. All I can feel is the incredible sensation of us moving together. Her tits bounce in time with me.

I take one of her nipples into my mouth and tug on her barbell. Not hard, but more than a love nip. That's all it takes to set her off.

"Fuck! Edward!"

"How do you want to finish?" I grunt at her.

"Inside me. Deep inside me."

I wait for her twitch, the one that tells me I've gotten her where she needs to go. I drive myself into her, as if I'm chasing my orgasm down a hallway, and I do as she asks, deep inside of her. The place that now belongs to me alone.

We're both panting after our fuck, smiles on our faces. Bella removes the sleep mask and turns her body into mine.

"What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderfully complex, amazing man? How is it that you always think of me, of my pleasure, even before your own? You always make sure that sex is a fair exchange, and it's perfect every single time. All I can say is that you're stuck with me now, Mr. Cullen. Forever."

"I hope you know that means we're going to spend the next three months in bed, give or take an hour or so."

She lifts her face to mine and gives me a soft kiss. I pull her over to straddle me, and remove her bra. I'm settled down enough to be able to do it slowly and gently. Without breaking our kiss, she lifts her knees so I can work her panties off. I arch my back and remove my pants, and we're finally completely naked together. She slides her pussy over my cock, which gradually hardens beneath her. Without a word, I lift her hips and slip inside. We kiss and rock in unison, taking our time, together in this moment. There's no me and her, no outside world, nothing but the connection of our moving bodies. It's perfect.

Bella comes with a small squeaking noise, and I pause a moment while she jerks from her orgasm. It isn't long before I finish and when I open my eyes, I see her looking at me with such adoration that it takes my breath away. Every time I think I can't possibly love this woman more, she proves me wrong. Not only that, but she apparently loves me just as ardently. I let out a very contented sigh, and Bella leans over me

With my arms around her, I whisper in her ear, "Sleep well, Mrs. Cullen. Remember that you'll always be my lobster."

She gives me a wordless "Hmm" in response, and we drift off to sleep.

**A/N:** **I will be writing a one-shot for the ****Fandom For Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (fandom4LLS on FFn). It will be an outtake from TNJ, called "Bella Swan: AKA The Naughty Nurse." Yeah, it's going to pretty much be PWP, as per usual. There is just the epilogue and one additional outtake left. *sniff***

**The recipe for Prince William's/Edward's Chocolate Biscuit Wedding Cake is located on my livejournal: kimpy0464(at)livejournal(dot)com. For those of you who have access to Hob Nobs, I just substituted them for the tea biccies. It was very nomz.**


	38. This Woman's Work

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: I decided that this needed to be another chapter rather than an outtake, so you can consider it a bonus.**

**Things I own: A Happy Uterus sticker and a Happy Mammary Gland pin from the website iheartguts (dot) com. My dear friend Einfach_Mich got them for me at Comic Con, and they make me giggle every time I see them.**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who is still my girl after all this time. Thanks to my grammarbeta, Lupin4Tonks, who never fails to tell me when I'm wrong, and to Ladyeire72, for her support. I love you all. Trufax.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: THIS WOMAN'S WORK **

As I close the cover of _The Nightingale Journals_, I stop to sniff it—I just love the smell of a new book. I also love the crackle that the binding makes the first time you open and close it. As much as I appreciate all things electronic, there's something special about the weight of a book in your hands. I run my finger over the cover, marveling that my name is printed there. I get a giddy feeling of joy rising in my stomach, one that I've had intermittently for weeks.

_This book is mine. I did it. Me._

Well, to be honest, it's not all my doing. Without my father-in-law's connections, publishing a book would have been an insurmountable hurdle. Lord Carlisle Cullen, M.D., however, knows everyone, and for some reason he believes in what I have to say. Thanks to him, we cut out all the headaches of finding an agent and a publisher, and shaved off about two years from the publishing process. I should be kissing his feet for all that he did for me. He insisted upon doing what he could, and I will forever be grateful to him.

"Bells, you ready for this?"

My father's voice brings me out of my head and back into the real world. As excited as I am about my book being published, I'm not at all thrilled about the parties and events that I have to attend to publicize the book release. I know I shouldn't grumble, but it takes so much out of me, having to be on and smiling the entire time. I feel pretty run down these days as a result. Thank god I usually have Edward by my side, or I'd never have the fortitude to go through with it. Unfortunately, he's working in the PICU tonight, so I have to handle this one on my own.

"Daddy? Why are you here? Where's Sue?"

Sue is Sue Clearwater, my agent. She's a close personal friend of Carlisle and Esme and I'd be lost without her. Sue is responsible for shuffling me from event to event, making sure I know exactly what is expected.

"She's talking to someone about a news segment for tomorrow, so she asked me to find you."

"You were with Sue?"

My dad suddenly looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and my father _never_ looks like a deer caught in the headlights. In fact, he's made a career out of making people feel that way. I'm instantly suspicious.

"Um, yes… I was, uh, standing. Ah, by her."

"O-kay…"

He clears his throat and motions with his head that we should leave.

_What is that man up to?_

I follow my dad to the table that has been set aside for the book signing and take a seat. As I look at the line, I can't believe these people are all here for me.

The first person in line sets her book in front of me and introduces herself. "I had a child who spent the first six months of his life in the PICU, and it was nurses like you who kept him alive time and time again. I'll be forever in debt to you wonderful people."

I smile at her, touched so much by her kind words. It's incredible to hear her gratitude; while we get so much out of what we do, to be acknowledged for that is touching.

"Thank you so much. I'm so glad to be able to help children like your son. It's a real privilege."

The next person in line steps to the table, and I glance over to my dad. He has a glass of Scotch in his hand and I instantly realize that I'll have a very chatty man sitting next to me on the drive home tonight. Come to think of it, he looks awfully… _intense _as he talks to Sue.

Yes. Suspicious.

I listen to the next person's kind words about my book, and sign my name. It's so interesting to hear everyone's story about how they came upon my book, or why it's meaningful to them. I'm always so full of pride when they share their stories with me.

While I'm listening to yet another reader's reactions to my words, I feel that familiar flutter in my stomach, the one I've attributed to excitement about my book. This time, however, it's quickly buried under a strong wave of nausea that washes over me. I can't get to the bathroom soon enough.

_What the hell?_

This can't be nerves. I've never hurled from nerves. I'm just signing books, for pete's sake.

_You're pregnant._

I'm a nurse, and I know these things. I'm pregnant, that's all there is to it. Given the frequency with which I have sex with my husband, it's no surprise that I find myself in this condition. We stopped using birth control a few months ago; it's only natural that I'd get pregnant at some point. That was the plan, after all.

The last thing I think to myself before I'm praying to the porcelain god is that Edward is going to be thrilled. I then proceed to puke my guts out.

Sue rushes to my side, alarmed. "Bella, are you going to be all right? Can I do something for you?"

"I've just gone too long without eating. Can you grab some peanut butter crackers out of my purse? That should help to settle my stomach."

I hear Sue rifling around in my bag. "Do you want some Sprite or something?"

"That would be perfect. Thanks," I manage to squawk out before I throw up again.

**~xXx~**

When I'm finally recovered enough that I can stand up, I fumble for my phone.

_Sick as a dog, puking my guts out._

_**Jesus, you're kidding. Food poisoning? You ok, bb?**_

_Not unless it's the kind of food poisoning that lasts about 9 mos._

_**NO. WAY.**_

_Pls pick up test kit on your way home._

_**Of course! I fucking love you.**_

_Say that to me again after I hurl on you._

_**Oh, I will. Trust. You're amazing. ILY.**_

_ILY2. See you soon._

**~xXx~**

**EPOV**

I stop at the drugstore on my way home. As I peruse the store's shelves, I can't decide which kit to select. I'm sure they're all basically the same, but I'm choosing this for Bella, and I want to make the best choice possible. It would be a much easier task if I wasn't dog tired. My hand is shaky as I grab each kit and read its selling points. My sleepy brain is trying to calculate when we would have conceived, and I'm reminded of our delayed honeymoon a few months ago.

We'd been married for a year before we could get enough time off to take a real honeymoon, because we got hitched during our last vacation. We decided to go to Hawaii for our first anniversary. Naturally, we celebrated. Copiously. Copulating. Constantly.

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. It was such an easy thing to say.

_What do you say we make some vampire babies to huff?_

_I think I'd like a Hawaiian vampire baby, Edward._

Now, she's probably pregnant, and I'm scared to death. My irrational fears for her safety float to the forefront of my mind.

Don't get me wrong; some of the best times I've ever had with Bella involve the moves required to make a baby. I cherish every fucking second of… fucking my wife. I just have this intense need to see to her wellbeing twenty-four seven. I'm sure that I'll drive her nuts during the entire pregnancy as a result of my obsession.

I finally decide upon a test kit and rush home to my girl. I find her hunched over the toilet. Charlie and Bella's agent are nearby, and both of them have worried looks upon their faces.

Bella makes quick work of reading the instructions then unceremoniously pees on the stick. While I time it for her, she puts it behind her back. When the time is up, we both look at the results together.

_Two lines_.

The wave of elation that runs through my body is overwhelming, and we look at each other with ridiculously giddy smiles on our faces.

I grab her and give her a very passionate kiss. This woman is everything to me, and now she's going to be the mother of my child. Fuck, life doesn't get any better than that.

"Oh, I hope our baby gets your crimples, Edward."

"I hope our baby looks just like you."

I cuddle her in my arms until she bolts and runs for the toilet. I sit behind her, holding her hair out of the way, and rubbing her back.

"Do you want me to get you some zofran, love? To ease your nausea?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to do everything possible to avoid taking any meds during my pregnancy."

"Your dad and Sue are still here. Do you want to break the news?"

She smiles beautifully. "Yeah, let's do it."

As we enter the next room, we walk in on Charlie and Sue sharing a very intimate moment. In other words, they're making out like a couple of horny teenagers.

"Daddy! What are you doing to Sue?" Bella shrieks.

Charlie and Sue jump away from each other like two kids being caught in the act by their parents. They both sport mortified looks on their faces; I notice that Charlie's is beet red.

"Um, we, Sue and I, er…" he stammers.

Sue takes over for the temporarily speechless Charlie. "Bella, I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but Charlie and I are seeing each other. We weren't trying to sneak around, we just didn't want to distract you from the book publicity."

"You and my dad? Really?"

"It's not surprising, Bells. I mean, Sue _is_ a beautiful woman."

"Just don't, Dad. I can't… no. Weird. You and Sue?"

It's obviously going to take Bella longer to accept this than it is for me. I walk over and shake Charlie's hand. He's such a good guy, he deserves to have a good woman at his side. Sue is great for him; I can't believe I didn't see it coming.

"Congratulations, you guys. That's awesome."

"It took me forever to wear this man's defenses down. He couldn't take a hint, so I finally had to make the first move."

"Sue, TMI. Just keep that to yourself. But yeah, congratulations. I'm just a little surprised. Sorry."

"Bella and I have some news for you as well."

"Daddy, Sue, I'm pregnant."

Charlie's jaw drops to the floor, followed almost immediately by a huge, beaming smile. "I get a grandchild?"

Bella walks over to hug her father. "Yeah, Daddy, you do."

He kisses the top of her head and whispers something to her.

"Let's call your parents, Edward. They need to know right away as well."

We both get on the line. My mother answers.

"Mom, what are you and Dad doing this coming September?"

"Hello to you too, Edward. What kind of a question is that? I have no idea what I'll be doing."

"Well, then, let me help you make some plans. Be sure to get plenty of sleep before then, you're going to need it."

"What on earth?"

"We're pregnant, Esme," Bella grins.

We hear a loud clunk and a shout for my father.

I hear sobbing in the background. "Mom? Are you okay?"

"Edward? What is it? Is Bellar all right? What's happened?"

"I'm fine, Carlisle. Edward and I are going to have a baby."

"Bloody good show! Well done, you two!"

I hear my mom sniffling as she gets back on the phone. "I'm so happy, Edward. You have no idea. Bella, are you doing okay? Can I do anything for you?"

"I'm a little nauseated, Esme, but I'm just fine."

Bella tells my mother a few more details, and I take a moment to let this all sink in.

A baby.

Charlie and Sue.

Everything in its right place.

**~xXx~**

Darcy and Elizabeth have always loved Bella, having taken such good care of her while she was recuperating from meningitis. Now that she's pregnant, they've gone completely nuts. They follow her everywhere, just watching for something to go awry.

When Bella sits down to watch TV, or lies down for a nap, they're next to her in an instant, vying for a place on her belly. When greyhounds sleep, they spread their bodies flush with yours, getting as close as is physically possible, and love to put their heads on your body. Typically, they go for your abdomen, lap, or snuggle their snout under your arm. When they sleep together, you'll find them in a tangled pile snuggled as closely as they can get. Since Bella's getting rounder by the day, one of them parks their face in between her breasts and her belly, and the other gets the space between her belly and her thighs. The only time they grouse at one another is when they're vying for the best spot on Bella. Darcy usually ends up winning whatever spot it is that he wants.

I'm completely unimportant in this house now, since I have no malady, nor any pregnant belly to guard; I've been relegated to peon status in their eyes. While I may be insignificant to the dogs, I'm still the fucking alpha male in this house, and I decide to kick them out of the room for the night.

Bella's bump is huge; she's been complaining vociferously that she is more pumpkin than human. She's ridiculous, of course. She's never been more beautiful than she is right now. I tell her this constantly, and she merely scoffs at me.

I watch her step out of the bathroom, which she visits with increased frequency these days. It seems like a cruel tease that women sleep so poorly in their last weeks of pregnancy—they're going to get such interrupted sleep once the baby is born, nature should really cut them a break in preparation for what's coming. I notice that she's wearing nothing but my button down shirt. She should know better than to bother covering up; I'm only going to take it off again when she gets to bed.

She never makes it that far.

Carefully, but firmly, I press her body into the closed door. The air around us crackles with the electricity of our passion.

I see the look on her face, her body language; my actions and desires fill her with lust.I hear her breathing become ragged, raw, and hitched, when she feels my hard cock, what her round body does to me.I drag my tongue along her collarbone, tasting the salty tang of her deeply through my nose, I smell her, the unmistakable scent of Bella. I'm never able to fully sate my desire for her.

Her skin is exquisite, so soft, as I move my hands lovingly over her body. I gently cradle her protruding belly, my long fingers carefully protecting the special contents.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? How much you honor me by carrying our child? I'll never love you more than I do right now. You're everything, Bella."

I lift her legs around my hips, sliding gently inside of her, careful to deliver only pleasure. Her soft sighs and happy noises fill me with so much pride, that I'm the one able to give her what she needs. My feelings threaten to overwhelm me, they're so intense. She comes quietly, which is fine, because I make enough noise for the both of us. I feel a warm, wet rush, and assume that it's just the after effects of our love, until it dawns on me that I've never come quite _that_ much in my life. I look up at Bella, and she has the strangest look on her face.

"I think my water just broke, Edward."

**~xXx~**

_What the ever-loving fuck was I thinking about when I thought having a baby was a good idea?_

Bella's contractions have started, and I'm a fucking wreck.

I'm the one who's supposed to be supporting and encouraging her, and all I can see in my mind are flashbacks of her lying on the hospital bed, intubated and unresponsive. Cognitively, I know that she's having a baby and that everything will be fine. Emotionally? I can't get past the fact that I nearly lost her. I still have such a hard time seeing her in pain. I don't know if the agony of that trauma will ever lessen.

We haven't even made it to the hospital yet.

I overhear Bella on the phone."Yes, Daddy, it's started. But remember, it's my first time, so it will probably take a while. Just get your things gathered and leave when you can, and tell Sue to do the same. It's no rush."

How can she be so calm? How the hell does she handle everything life gives her, and turn around with her beatific smile? My wife's strength will never, ever cease to amaze me. It's a good thing she's the one having the baby, because I'm clearly not able to handle it.

Naturally, her hospital bag has been packed for weeks, because my wife is perfect and genius and understands inherently that I'm not going to be any help at all at times like these. I manage to get her bag and escort her to the car without incident, and I'm pretty fucking proud of myself to accomplish that much. Just as I'm helping her into the car, she has another contraction, and her legs give out. A jolt of shock runs through my heart as I momentarily panic. She's quick to reassure me that it's nothing.

_I'm never going to make it._

My hands shake as I try to start the car. Bella reaches over and gently places her hand over mine.

"Edward, it's fine. I'm fine. We're just having a baby. Take a deep breath."

Ironic. My wife, who is in labor, is telling me to breathe. I close my eyes and follow her command.

_In. Out._

"I can do this."

"I know you can, baby," she reassures.

As our journey gets underway, Bella calls my parents to let them know it's time. Thank god my mom will be there, because she is cut from the same rock that my wife is—with her there, I know everything will be fine, because she always makes it fine. Granted, this is no skinned knee, and Bella's ordeal will be much longer than anything I faced as a child, but my mother is a miracle worker.

Right?

I'm pulled from my thoughts by the sound of Bella practicing her breathing.

"Are you okay?"

She can't answer me, but looks me in the eye and nods.

I'm in awe of my wife. My beautiful, calm, intelligent, Rock of Gibraltar wife. She's an absolute miracle. Everything she's done for me has made me healthy, happy, and sane. I'll never know what I did to deserve her. I'll never truly know what she sees in me. I'm just grateful I could pull the wool over her eyes long enough to convince her to have me.

At the hospital, Bella insists upon walking up and down the corridor for as long as she can to help move the labor along. My parents, along with Charlie and Sue, have created an almost festive atmosphere in the family lounge; I'm glad someone can enjoy this time, because I'm a nervous wreck. I'm lost in my own head when Bella suddenly falters, her knees giving out.

"Bella?" I ask, alarmed.

"Bad. Bad. Bad," she moans.

_Fuck._

"All right, baby, let's get you to bed so they can check how far you've dilated."

My mom magically appears at my side to help, and together we get her back to her room. The doctor checks her, and she's fully effaced and dilated. Trust my Bella to keep on going until she's completely ready to deliver. Unreal.

The nurse instructs Bella how to push most effectively, and I see a look of intense determination spread over her face. My girl is all serious business; this is going to happen. She pushes her heart out then catches up on her breaths in between contractions. I can see our baby's head crowning, and my fears are suddenly replaced by intense excitement. Bella's okay, the delivery is going fine, and we're going to make it.

"She's got dark brown hair, baby, just like you!" I exclaim.

I'm not sure if Bella hears me or not; she's in a place of focus, almost like she's meditating. Our baby's head squeezes through the next contraction, and her physician quickly suctions out the nose and mouth. It only takes three more contractions for our baby to be delivered, a squalling mess of dissatisfaction for having been pulled from her comfortable environment and out into the world.

It's a girl. I have a girl. _We _have a girl.

"Bella, love, you did it! Our baby's a girl, and she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!" I have tears in my eyes; it's a moment of absolute joy.

The panic of fathering a girl, however, sets in almost immediately, tempering my joy.

_She's going to be locked in her room away from all male contact during her entire adolescence._

If she's just as beautiful as her mother, no boy will be allowed within one square mile of her; I know what goes on in the minds of pubescent males, and it's nothing I want my daughter subjected to. Ever.

Our lovely little girl is placed on Bella's chest, and my wife looks positively radiant. How this is possible, I have no idea; she just physically exerted herself so hard, it's akin to running a marathon. As I've said before, my wife is simply amazing.

"Hello, my girl. I'm so happy to meet you, little one," Bella coos to our daughter. I bend over to kiss my wife's forehead then I kiss our baby.

"Welcome to our world, Libby. You are so loved, already."

Esme Elizabeth, _Libby_, after both our mothers. Bella's mother's first name was Elizabeth, but she always went by Renee. She felt it would be too much of a reminder to use the exact same name as her mother, and Bella doesn't want our daughter to have to carry that burden. Still, we want to honor her mother's memory.

Surprisingly, the moment she's placed on Bella, little Libby quiets at once. When Bella speaks to her, she looks her mother in the eyes, very intense and focused. She has the same reaction to me, too. From two intense people comes one intense newborn; go figure.

The nurse encourages Bella to bring Libby to her breast almost immediately. Research has shown this helps the bonding process even more than mere skin contact, and attempting to nurse immediately is important for both infant and mother. Naturally, my perfect baby girl gets it right on her first try. Bella is so pleased.

After a few minutes, the nurse weighs and measures little Libby, and I leave to fetch our parents.

"Esme Elizabeth Cullen, Libby, has officially joined the family, and I can attest personally to how beautiful and perfect she is. Ready to come meet her?"

I'm nearly mowed over by overzealous grandparents anxious to meet their first grandbaby.

Little Libby is passed from person to person, still as quiet and focused as ever. We clearly have an exemplary newborn. She is met with resounding approval from her grandparents. As if that wasn't a foregone conclusion.

**~xXx~**

Hours later, in the middle of the night, Libby awakens, and I bring her to Bella so she can nurse for a while. When she's finished, I finally have my daughter in my arms again, and I tell her the story of Bella and me. The long journey we took to guarantee her eventual arrival in the world.

I lean over and take in her baby smell, inhaling deeply. Finally, I get to huff a baby of my very own.

"I'll have you know that your mum agreed to marry me even if I wasn't perfect, but seeing as I am perfect, it all worked out smashingly well. She's incredibly lucky to have me, as you will soon find out."

I thought Bella had drifted back to sleep, but her words indicate otherwise. "Still so full of shit, Cullen. Just you wait, she's going to wrap you around her little finger, and then your narcissistic days will be over."

"I think she already has."

I walk back to Bella's bed, and climb in next to her. We hold Libby between us as our girl drifts back to sleep.

"She's really perfect, isn't she?" Bella says to me quietly.

"Yes, she is. I'm so proud of you, baby. I love you so much."

Words cannot possibly communicate the level of joy I feel, so I let my lips do the talking. They're usually far more convincing than my words are, anyway.

Bella, baby, me.

Everything in its right place.

**END NOTE: ****Charlie's love interest is for my dear mycrookedsmile. She loves her Charlies, especially when they have a chance to get some.**

**Ellachanted inspired Edward's line about being perfect. Apparently, she knows Dr. GEM **_**very**_** well.**


	39. Epilogue

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: This is it, folks—****just one more outtake to go for this story, then it will truly be over. It's a one-shot that I'm doing for Fandom4LLS, called **_**Bella Swan: AKA The Naughty Nurse.**_

**Things I own: A box of Imitrex for migraines. And they say that aspirin is a miracle drug…**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Trinity/TFX, who honestly puts Martha Stewart to shame, because she's actually loving, and sweet, and perfect. Lupin4Tonks continues to help me hone my writing, for the knife she wields is sharp but necessary. And ladyeire72 is one of the nicest, most supportive people around. You're all amazing women, and help to inspire my strong Bella.**

**EPILOGUE**

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2011

**The Nightingale Journals**

_THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY STAY THE SAME_

It's been over a year since I first posted on the Nightingale Journals blog. As I write this final entry, nothing strikes me more than the saying, "The more things change, the more they stay the same." Everything in my life is different—I have a husband who is a PICU attending physician, I have in-laws who are as dear to me as if they were my own parents, and a dad who is as terse, but as loving, as can be. I have best friends/former roomies/colleagues who have taken the plunge and gotten married. Even I've taken the plunge and gotten married. Everything has changed for everyone, except that it really hasn't. The core of our lives is still the same—caring for critically ill children day in and day out—although the supporting characters ebb and flow.

As I walked into the hospital last night, I was undeniably nervous—it was my first solo shift after my experience with meningitis and subsequent rehab—but I was also oddly excited. This place has always held that sway for me. When I spot the building as I drive in to work, I instantly smile. When I walk through the front doors, I'm humming and full of happy anticipation for what the next twelve hours will hold. It doesn't matter what it is—I'm always ready. Just like a soldier going into battle, I don't know what will come at me, I only know that I can handle whatever it is. I'm just so happy to be here, doing what I love to do, with people whom I love.

I'll never say that my job is easy—I don't sleep so well and I have a wicked bad caffeine habit. In fact, it's the challenge that makes me love what I do so much, because I never have the chance to just sit back and allow my mind to become idle; I always have to be vigilant and mentally alert. That said, I wouldn't trade what I do for anything.

When I'm done with a shift, I'm always exhausted, but in a good way. I know that I've earned my keep and done a small amount of good for the world, and I'm incredibly proud of that. To quote one of my favorite female role models, Katharine Graham, "To love what you do and feel that it matters—how could anything be more fun?"

The one thing I never expected to find at work was a true, abiding, and genuine love. I never wanted to date a doctor, let alone marry one, but you just can't know what surprises the universe holds for you. While I'd never wish meningitis on anyone, it seems a small price to pay when you also get the chance to love your work, and work with your true love. I'm positively flummoxed that somehow, I ended up with the best fortune cookie ever; I got to marry my Prince Charming.

In the past 18 months, I've fallen in love, worked with a colleague who died, worked with two colleagues who stole narcotics, watched my roomies fall in love and get married, and discovered a new family to supplement just me and my dad. I've nearly died, and I've watched kids die, but I've also recovered, and have seen critically ill patients recover miraculously.

I have a true appreciation now for what it means to live, to be _alive_, and what it means to die. I can say in complete honesty that I try to be present in every moment, not to live in regret, and to appreciate life for what it is. While I don't want to die at this very minute, I'm also not afraid of death. Perhaps it's my occupation, but I'm incredibly pragmatic about the life cycle; everyone has their time to go, no matter if it's early or late in life. For most of us, we don't get to choose when that moment will be. When it's my time, I know that I'll simply accept it; I won't leave this world with any unfinished business, precisely because of the way I live my life every day.

Despite all the things that change in life, the routine of the Peds ICU is constant. Life, death, emergency, triumph—sometimes all on the same shift. At the end of the day, I know that I can pass along my patient to a competent, caring colleague, and I don't have to think about work when I'm not there. I know that if there's nothing else I can do clinically for my patient, I can always give them twelve hours of love and compassion.

The Pediatric ICU is where my heart and my soul are. I was born to do this job, just as I was born to love my husband. For once in my life, everything is finally just as it should be.

POSTED BY BELLALUNA AT 10:02 AM 0 COMMENTS

**END NOTE: Back when I began writing **_**The Nightingale Journals**_**, I had no idea how I could take a simple one shot and turn it into a full-length story. I've picked up so many friends and good people along the way, and I want to sincerely thank you for joining me on this crazy ride. You've proven to me that you **_**can**_** write about technical subjects and hold an audience's interest. I wish I could give each of you a huge nom of love and thanks. **

**For those readers who might be interested, my next project will be the completion of two shorter/novella-length stories: **_**Just A Passenger in The Naughty Boy Car**_** and **_**The Silver Lining**_**, and then I'm going to get started on a piece of original fiction that's been gnawing away at me for over a year.**


	40. Outtake: AKA The Naughty Nurse

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: This outtake was originally written for the Fandom for LLS compilation.**

**I see the effects of lymphoma and leukemia all the time in my line of work. It's only fitting that I participate in something like The Fandom for LLS in order to support it with both my _vocation_ and _avocation_. Yes, I feel that strongly about it.**

**Things I own: A pill box that says, _She __was __not __only __good __for __her __patients__…__she __was __good __to __them. __Nurse __Naughty_.**

**Things I don't own: Anything _Twilight_. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Lupin4Tonks, who willingly takes what I give her, even when I wait until the last minute. You are too good to me, bb. **

**My sincere thanks to both Ladyeire72 and Mycrookedsmile for pre-reading to make sure this was good enough for the compilation. You're both so appreciated. Trust.**

**TNJ OUTTAKE/FANDOM4LLS BENEFIT: **

**BELLA SWAN, AKA THE NAUGHTY NURSE**

I step inside the front door, anxious to see my wife.

"Bella?"

No answer.

Darcy and Elizabeth rush to greet me at the door. That's odd; they're always clinging to Bella, 24/7.

Hmm. Maybe she's still asleep. She did work last night, but she's usually up by the time I'm home.

I walk to our bedroom.

Nothing_._

"Bella Cullen, where are you?" I ask in a silly voice, but get no reply.

I look in the office.

Nothing.

Kitchen?

Nothing.

I'm starting to get seriously worried when I hear a rustling noise in the living room and rush to investigate.

To my relief, I find my wife, sitting on the living room couch. She looks at me as if nothing has transpired since I first walked in the door.

Before I have time to voice my displeasure, her finger is on my lips and she's shushing me.

"Dr. Cullen, you're late for your appointment."

I'm momentarily distracted by her use of my professional title; she _knows_ what that does to me, the little vixen.

"Bella, wha—?"

I suddenly notice my wife's attire—she's wearing something completely indecent. _Wearing_ might be a misnomer; there's not really enough fabric covering her body to call it clothing. I think it's supposed to be a naughty nurse outfit, but it's a little hard to tell; it requires the use of an active imagination. Fortunately, when it comes to Bella, my imagination acts like it's an adolescent on summer vacation. Without any parental supervision.

Be still, my cock.

"Edward, you and I are going to make some homemade porn today."

I believe my eyes just popped out of their sockets in surprise; Bella has always been against creating homemade porn.

"I'm confused—it's not Christmas, it's not my birthday. You've always hated the idea of being involved in homemade porn. What gives?"

The words escaped from my mouth before I had time to think. When you get an offer like this, you're supposed to just run with it. Dammit.

She shrugs her shoulders. "I know how much it means to you, and I'm hoping that you'll stop hounding me about it. I might as well have a reminder of what my non-pregnant body looked like, anyhow."

"What the hell?" I sigh. "You know that in my eyes you'll always be smoking hot. You don't need to make homemade porn to prove that."

She quirks her eyebrow at me and crosses her arms. "Look, do you want homemade porn or—"

I answer before her sentence is even finished. "YES."

I take a step back and look my wife up and down. I ogle her like I'm some kind of lascivious letch. But fuck me if she isn't the hottest woman I've ever known. She could wear a garbage bag and make it sexy.

I make a circling motion with my finger so she'll turn around and show me everything. Naturally, she complies.

Skintight slip of cloth that loosely resembles a nurse's outfit?

_Check_.

Red garters connected to the aforementioned slip of cloth?

_Check._

Red push-up bra she doesn't even try to hide under the slip of cloth?

_Check. _

Barely-there skirt that doesn't cover up the red thong underneath?

_Check_.

Bare ass cheeks hanging out from behind?

_Check_.

White thigh highs?

_Check_.

Six-inch heels she can barely stand up in?

_Check_.

Cock so hard it could be a lethal weapon?

_Fucking __check. __Check. __Check_.

_Fuuuuuck_. _Goddamn, __I __love __this __woman._

I slink in close to her body, cupping her bare ass cheek in my hand. I can't get enough friction between us right now.

My Bella appears to have a plan in mind, however, and cruelly pushes me and my erection away from her. I instantly start to pout about it, but she just shakes her head sternly and pulls me with her as she walks up the stairs.

My perfect, beautiful, intelligent, sly, sexy wife has an exam room of sorts arranged. I look around the room for signs of our joint office, but she appears to have completely transformed the space. The video camera set up on a tripod in the corner doesn't escape my notice.

"How?"

She shakes her head again, grinning deviously at me. "Not important."

I can deal with that.

She opens the closet and pulls out a pair of blue scrubs and my white lab coat—the words _Dr. __Edward __A. __Cullen_ are embroidered in red over the pen pocket.

"Come here, Dr. Cullen. You need to be properly dressed for this office call."

She hands me the clothing and tells me to change. Meanwhile, I watch her as she putters around, getting the room ready for our scene. At one point, she admonishes me as I try to put the scrub pants on over my boxers.

"Edward Cullen, you cannot possibly be trying to put scrubs on over boxers. If ever there was a time to go commando, this is it. Honestly!"

I smile to myself. I just wanted to see if she was paying attention.

Once I'm dressed, she backs me into my desk chair and puts my stethoscope around my neck. I look up at her expectantly.

She opens a drawer of the desk and pulls out a book. It's clearly a pulp fiction porn novel from the '60s. The cover is purple and shows an illustration of a naked woman alone on a bed in one corner. In the other corner of the cover, there is a nurse in flared pants holding a tray with a cup and bottle of medication. A doctor firmly cups her firm ass cheek. I note that the tagline reads: _The __Scandal __Whispered __in __Hospital __Corridors__…_

"Read the title for me, please," she asks.

I read it out loud for her. "_Nurses __and __Anal __Love_."

She gives me a sly, knowing smile. I'm sure this is going to be all kinds of bad, in the best of ways.

"Where the hell did you find this?"

"Online. You don't want to know what I was Googling when I ran across it."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. I think I'd be very interested to know."

She smirks at me, very clearly amused to have piqued my interest. "Let's just say it popped up when I was searching for my new nurse's uniform in Google images. The weirdest thing, though, is that a picture of Justin Bieber was there, too. God only knows what he has to do with naughty nurse uniforms and books about anal sex. I'm not even going to go there."

"Wait, you were Googling 'naughty nurse' and 'anal sex'? Where was I when this awesome shit was going down?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "No, I was Googling nurse costumes when the book popped up. Just chalk the book and Bieber up to Google search engine-fail."

Bella takes the book out of my hands. "You know, this could be my life story, for all we know."

_Yes, please._

"I'm very okay with that, if it is. Just so you know." She giggles at my enthusiasm; it takes her a moment to regain her composure.

She takes a deep breath then begins. "Right, so here's the plan. You're going to be practicing a new assessment technique, and you've decided to test out the technique on me, your dutiful nurse. On your table, I've laid out a number of tools that will be helpful for you in your assessment," she nods over at the table to direct my attention there. I can see all kinds of fun gadgets to play with on there.

"Dr. Cullen, what I need you to do is recreate this story. For our homemade porn." She gives my cock a nice hard squeeze as if to emphasize her point. Naturally, my attention is turned toward my erection, and definitely not to the words Bella mentioned before running her hands all over my rod.

My very hard rod.

That Bella touched.

That Bella might be ready to touch again.

Please touch it again, Bella.

"Doctor?" She waves her hand in front of my face. "What part of 'homemade porn' did you fail to understand?"

"Um… was that the part where you squeezed my dick?"

"I should have known better than to bring your other head into the picture. It ruins your ability to focus upon anything else," she mutters. Slapping my chest with the book, she enunciates most distinctly, "Recreate. The. Story."

"Ohhh. _Nurses __and __Anal __Love_. Yeah. Tell you that story. With my hard cock that really just wants to get to know your red thong a little bit better."

She crosses her arms and gives me a _look_.

"Okay, okay, I can do that. I would like to point out for the record, however, that I've never read this book, so I don't really know what happens…"

"For crying out loud, use your imagination, Cullen!" She says, exasperated. "Look at the cover. It's '60s pulp fiction porn. It can't be that hard!"

I look down at the erection tenting in my scrubs, then look back up at Bella. "Oh, but it _is_ that hard. Look," I helpfully point out to her, using her hand for illustrative purposes only.

She shakes her head and walks away from me. "I'm going to focus the camera then press start. I expect you to be ready to go when I give the all-clear. Understood?"

Both of my heads bob out enthusiastic nods.

"Stand in front of the table, Edward. So I can get you in focus."

"Do you need me to whip my cock out? Just to be sure it's in focus?"

"Cullen, remember the key words: homemade porn. Do you want some?"

"Shutting up now."

"Wise choice."

"Okay, it's ready. 3-2-1, go."

Bella pretends to walk into Dr. Cullen's exam room.

"You said you needed me, Dr. Cullen?" She bats her eyes innocently. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on the scene if she distracts me like that?

I clear my throat. "Yes, Nurse Bella, I want to practice using a new assessment tool. I'd like to try it out on you first, before I use it on a patient."

"Of course, doctor. I'm here to do whatever you need."

"Thank you, nurse. Please turn around and face the table."

Bella follows my instructions. I take a moment to grind my hard on into her ass, causing myself to groan.

"We're going to do a head-to-toe assessment, to make sure we look at everything very closely."

"Yes, sir."

_She threw that 'sir' in there just to get me wound up._

I pull her hair back with a quick yank to expose her ear and her neck. I lean in and give her earlobe a good nip, causing her to squeak. I follow that with a swirl of my tongue in her ear.

"And tell me, nurse, how did that feel?"

"It felt very nice, doctor."

"Nice? Really? Just nice?"

"Mmm. Just nice."

"Well, I was expecting a different reaction. I'll have to work on that."

I run my tongue along her neck then blow along the wet trail. I can see her skin pebbling in response.

"And that?"

"I feel a bit chilled. Maybe you should take my temperature."

"Oh, we'll get to that. But there are other things that need to come first."

"Like you, doctor?"

I give her ass a slap for being so cheeky. "Of course the doctor always comes first. You know the routine, nurse."

She sticks her ass out, wanting more. "I thought it was the nurse who came first," she taunts, wiggling her bum.

I land a nice smack on her other cheek. "Nope. The doctor. I'm going to have to keep spanking you until you remember that."

"I'll try to remember, but I have a hard time with my short-term memory, you know."

I cup her breasts from behind, circling my fingers around her nipples then give them a nice, solid pinch. I'm rewarded with a moan that is so enticing I'm going to download it onto my iPod. It goes straight to my cock.

"So far, all your responses are normal. Good job," I give her tits a healthy squeeze.

The tiny scrap of material that covers my wife's body, or rather _doesn__'__t_ cover her body, has to go. I take a moment to unhook her garters, then deftly unzip it and fling it aside.

"You need to turn around, so I can give you a full eyefuck assessment."

"What's an eyefuck assessment, doctor?" She bats her eyes again. Tease.

"That's where I look you over and think about all the places I'd like to fuck you with my cock, once I'm done fucking you with my eyes."

"But where could you possibly fuck me aside from my wet pussy?"

Bella is such a fucking natural at this—I can't believe she ever groused about doing homemade porn. Swear to god, this is going to be beat off material for years. I can't fucking wait to see this. It gets me off even more to know that she's doing this just for me.

"That's the special part of my new assessment technique; you'll just have to wait and find out. Plus, I'm still waiting for you to turn around. When I give you a command, I expect you to obey."

"Yes, doctor. I'm sorry," she explains as she turns for me.

I tap my finger on her mouth to indicate that I want her to open it. I place two fingers on her tongue and tell her to pretend it's my cock. "This is the first place I'd like to fuck."

Bella makes a huge show of sucking on my fingers, pulling out the Grade A porn noises. Where the hell did she learn this stuff?

"Now I need to observe your breasts. Remove your bra."

She whips it off, flinging it aside for the camera. "Do they look all right, doctor? I'm a little worried," she says, as she cups them in her hands.

"I can't really tell just by looking at them. This will require a manual palpation."

I place my hands over her tits then run the nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, twisting her barbells with a pinch.

"Hmm," I muse. "I'm still not certain if they're all right. Properly assessing nipple piercings can be tricky business. Let's try my new oral technique and see if that works."

"Whatever you think is necessary, doctor."

"Trust me, this is entirely necessary," I explain before inserting one of her beautiful nipples into my mouth, tugging on her piercings intermittently. I work them with my tongue like I'll never have them in my mouth again. It gives me an extreme amount of satisfaction to get her worked up and moaning for the camera. I almost think she's forgotten that it's on; she's letting go so much.

"Yes, these nipples and breasts are absolutely fine, now that I've taken a closer look. The piercings are in fine form."

"Oh, that's good to know."

"But that's not to say I might not need to assess them again. These things can change very quickly, you understand."

"Of course," she nods.

"I need you to sit up on the exam table now. There's another spot I saw in my eyefuck assessment that needs a closer look."

Bella complies with my demand. God, I'm a lucky bastard.

"That's good. Now, lie down."

I tap her knees; she knows that I want them spread apart. Her thong is positioned in the middle of her slit, so her lower lips are splayed perfectly for me. I run my thumb along her lips, only to find them very slick and wet. Without warning, I quickly slip two of my fingers inside of her and she starts at my touch.

"This is definitely a place where I'll need to put my cock. Fingers just aren't as good at assessing this area. Especially when you need to test for wetness deep inside."

"I didn't know that." She stops for a moment to give me a beautiful moan as I work my fingers inside of her. "It's sure a good thing you're assessing me so thoroughly."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" I smile at her.

In the periphery, I notice the table Bella set up for me earlier. Of all the items sitting there, the Wartenberg wheel is what pops out at me. My Bella just loves that particular implement. I snatch it up.

"Nurse Bella, I can't be absolutely certain, but the thong you're wearing might have cut off circulation to your pussy." I ham up my monologue for the benefit of the camera. "I'm going to have to use the Wartenberg wheel to make sure that your nervous system's responses are within normal limits."

"I didn't know wearing a thong could be so hazardous to my health."

"Well, pussies are highly sensitive to things like that. Nerve damage to this area could be traumatic."

It's entirely true. I'd be traumatized without Bella's pussy to enjoy.

I pull up on the thin strap of her thong, making it tight against her slit. With my other hand, I roll the wheel up one side of her lips and down the other. Her hips buck in response.

"Hmm. The results of my test are inconclusive. Let's try again."

This time, I scoot the wheel along the rim of her vulva, running it very lightly over her clit.

"Fuck, Edward!"

"To whom are you speaking?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. I broke my concentration there for a moment."

I smirk at her. I love it when I can mess with her focus.

"Don't do that again; I need you to remain focused so I can get through this assessment in a timely manner."

I set the wheel down and pull the thong off to the side.

"You know, one of the best assessment techniques for a pussy is the mouth/cock treatment."

"I've never heard of that before."

"It's a technique I pioneered. I only use it in the most dire circumstances."

"Are my circumstances truly dire, doctor?"

"It's hard to know for certain until I taste you."

"Well, then, you'd best get to it."

"I intend to," I inform her just moments before I sink my tongue into her.

So fucking sweet. I've tasted a good amount of pussy over the years, but no one's has ever compared to Bella. Everything about this woman is tailor-made for me.

I grab some lube from the table without breaking my seal on her clit—a mastery of sexual prowess if ever there was one—and distribute it onto my fingers. I rub my fingertips over her pucker to get it slick. Carefully, I increase the amount of suction I'm using on her clit then slide my finger into backside.

"Doctor, there's no way something can be wrong with me if it feels this wicked good."

"There's only one way to find out," I explain.

She props herself up on her elbows to look me in the eyes. "And what would that be?"

"It's the last place I need to do my eyefuck assessment, which will be promptly followed up with my cock."

"I don't understand—my pussy is right here. What about the mouth/cock treatment I'm supposed to receive?"

"I decided I need your sweet little ass more," I tell her, giving her a little slap on the bum. "It's far more critical than the mouth/pussy treatment, I assure you."

"Ohhhh."

"Exactly. Please get up from the table now. This particular eyefuck assessment must be done with you bent over."

"Should I take off my shoes or my stockings?"

"Absolutely not; they're a critical element of this exam," I inform her.

She promptly shimmies off the bed and dutifully bends over, displaying her gorgeous derriere for me.

"Please remove your thong, nurse."

She waggles her ass while she gets rid of the thong. I try to make a mental note of where she flings it, so that I can retrieve those as a memento of our homemade porn night. I'd get them fucking bronzed except that it would remove her scent, and I couldn't bear that.

I eyefuck her for a moment, since that is what I'm supposed to be doing, after all, and it's so hard to tell what I love the most about her. Her ass is so round, perfect for spanking, but her pussy is gorgeous, too. Her tits are hidden from me at the moment, or I'd be obsessing over them. I love it all.

"Very good. Now, please untie my scrub pants."

Bella complies, and my pants fall off immediately, exposing my incredibly hard cock. Once she sees my bare erection, she reaches out and gives me a few quick pumps. I can't help but moan, which makes her grin with satisfaction.

"I need to grab some supplies for my exam. Please return to your previous position."

"Yes, Dr. Cullen."

I grab some lube, a condom, and a vibrator. I need to make sure to get her really worked up before she comes. Her sex noises are like wank-off gold.

I turn on the vibrator and slide it into her pussy. She lets out a deep moan in reply. I diligently work it in and out, intermittently teasing her clit with it. Once she gets so wound up that she's squirming, I slide it deep inside of her and leave it in place to drive her nuts. She loves the dual stimulation of pussy and ass. I slip the condom onto my impatient dick and put some more lube on her pucker.

"I'm ready to start my in-depth assessment," I tell her, with the head of my cock poised to slip inside of her. "The question is, are you ready, Nurse Bella?"

"Fuck, yes! Please."

It doesn't matter how many times we've done this, it never gets old. I love her mouth on me, I love to be buried in her pussy, and I love to play at her back door. I simply love every square inch of my wife.

I can feel the vibrator on my cock, and it only fuels my flames. I close my eyes and allow myself to take in everything I feel. I've forgotten about the video camera, forgotten that this is part of a scene. Right now, it's just me and my wife, deeply joined together, and I lose myself in her, just like I always do.

As my cock strokes in and out, I try so hard to let her know how much I worship her body. I want every thrust to communicate my love. Every pinch of her nipples conveys my adoration. My fingers have a firm grip on her hips as I guide her movements over my cock. With her high heels, she's at the perfect height for this position.

Too quickly, I pick up my pace, watching her ass jiggle every time my body slaps against hers. I can't seem to slow down. I'm going to need her help if she's going to get off before I do.

"Bella," I gasp out to her.

"Hmm," she says, as if she's miles away.

"Touch yourself, please. I'm close. I need you to be close, too."

She nods her head at the same time her small hand moves to her clit. I take one hand off of her hip and reach up to find her nipple. I alternate twisting the barbell and groping her tit, which is about all the coordination I can muster right now.

We're both groaning and moaning and lost in each other. I'm close, so fucking close, and I know this is going to be a huge orgasm. I want Bella's to be just as good.

I'm at a point where I'm panting, so it's getting difficult for me to even speak, much less dole out commands. "Baby, come. Come now. Please."

Bella lets out a series of mewling noises and I can tell she's completely undone. She rarely gets this into the moment, so I'm totally getting off on watching her let pleasure take control. Instead of her usual, quick, "fuck-fuck-fuck" that she utters every time she comes, all I can make out is one long "ffffffuuhhhhh." Between the sounds of her unraveling beneath me, the vibrator, and her orgasm, I'm done for. I come hard and my entire body shivers uncontrollably.

This woman possesses my soul, and I give it to her willingly, each and every time her body asks for it. With the sheer number of times I've had sex with my wife, you'd think we'd have reached our peak by now, but you'd be wrong. It just keeps getting better.

A little bit later—it could be seconds, it could be minutes, I have no idea—I feel my softening cock slide out of her, and I kiss her back. I take the vibrator out from her and turn it off. I remove my condom, knotting it up at the top, and it's only then that I notice the video camera. I'd completely forgotten about it, I was so lost in Bella.

"Nurse Bella, I can assure you that you have been a sublime specimen for my new assessment technique. However, I may need to continue to hone my technique in order to perfect it before I use it on one of my patients."

"I'm happy to assist you, Dr. Cullen. I'm interested in learning more about your mouth/cock treatment, too."

"I assure you that we'll practice it often until I get my technique down just right."

I take Bella's hand in mine, and we both exit the scene and turn off the camera.

I lovingly take her perfect face into my hands and give her a deep kiss. I'm momentarily taken aback, because I suddenly realize that I'll never be able to kiss her enough—often enough, long enough, passionately enough. As long as we're together, I'll be wanting her, even when I've just had her.

And for those times when I can't have her? That's what homemade porn is for.

_Such __a __fucking __lucky __bastard_.

**The _Nurses __and __Anal __Love_ reference is brought to you by none other than Anntastic. She e-mailed it to me recently, and I giggled so hard, I knew I had to include it in this outtake. TY so much, bb! A copy of the cover is located on my live journal page if anyone is interested. **

**The anal lemon is brought to you by angelwells, who begged for a sexual favor.**


	41. Outtake: What Goes Around Comes Around

**THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS**

**A/N: This outtake was auctioned off at FGB, and won by Marijee. She told me to write "****Whatever you think your readers would like. I want you to write what you would enjoy."**** Also, JusticeAussie was unable to bid due to technical difficulties. So, this is just for those two lovely ladies, as well as for you, the readers.**

**Things I own: A limited edition **_**Breaking Dawn, Part 1**_** DVD, complete with fake flower from the wedding scene. Yes, I am a sap who stayed up until midnight to buy it.**

**Things I don't own: Anything **_**Twilight**_**. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks to my beta, Lupin4Tonks. She has a loyal heart and a good soul, in addition to being the Queen of Grammar Rules. Happy belated birthday, sweets.**

** WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND**

**A TNJ OUTTAKE**

The doorbell rings, and I open it to find a gangly boy standing there. He's wearing an ill-fitting tux and has a corsage box in his hand. I open my mouth to say something, but I'm interrupted by my Bella.

"Edward, look!" Her voice is laced with excitement.

I watch as my daughter descends the staircase. Libby is so much her mother's child—the same delicate features, same hair coloring, same petite frame. She takes my breath away.

It's strange how two different feelings can occupy my brain simultaneously. I'm in awe of my girl's beauty, so proud of who she is, but at the same time, I have this intense need to hover over her and keep her protected. Not that she really needs protection; she's a double black belt in karate—her Grandpa Charlie made sure that she was enrolled in lessons from the age of five, just like her mother. Still, I'm her father, she is and always will be my baby girl, and I don't want anyone of the male persuasion within ten feet of her. I don't even believe allowances should be made for things like dances, but Bella disagrees with me. I have no idea why she disagrees, since she knows from experience exactly what male minds are capable of. All I can do is sigh, grumble on the sidelines and continue to adore my beautiful girl.

Admiring my daughter, I wonder to myself—when did she grow up? Precisely when? Does she somehow age prematurely? I've been here the entire time, and I'm sure she's only two or three at the very most. I know for a fact she can't possibly be old enough to go to a dance. Looking at her in that beautiful blue dress—yes, the color is as exquisite on my daughter's skin as it is on her mother's—I can't deny that she appears to be grown up, at least physically.

I turn my gaze away from my little girl for a minute, and train it back onto the individual standing in my foyer. _Him_. The horny, shabbily-attired teenage boy who's standing at the door, waiting for my Libby. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he's leaving this house with her. Abso-fucking-lutely not. I look him straight in the eye, and his eyes dart away from mine. That just proves he's shifty on top of everything else. I tilt my head forward, peering at him over my readers. He knows I mean business.

I feel an elbow nudge me in the side.

"What?" I ask my wife with annoyance.

"Quit with the third degree already, or I'm going to nickname you Charlie."

"I haven't even said a word to him!" My protest of innocence is belied by the snort of derision that immediately follows it. "Charlie truly knows how to give the third degree. I'm merely making my displeasure known."

Bella rolls her eyes at my declaration. "Nice line of BS. You must've had years of practice or something."

The gangly boy decides that he's going to ignore the conversation I'm having with my wife. He steps forward and reaches out feebly in an attempt to shake my hand—someone must have told him that would be a way to win me over.

_Not a fucking chance, hornyboy. _

I'm not a complete ogre, however, and for the sake of not embarrassing Libby too much, I start to reach my hand toward his. Before I grasp it, however, a thought pops into my head—_he probably just beat off moments before he got here._ The idea of getting some other guy's spunk on my palm makes me queasy. I stop midway and instead grab some hand sanitizer from my pocket, helpfully handing it over to him. He looks confused, so I decide to help him out a little bit.

"Hand sanitizer. So I know that your hands will be clean before you go anywhere near my daughter."

"Oh, yeah. You're a doctor."

I cross my arms over my chest. I'm not fucking shaking his hand. That's like admitting defeat. Like giving in to the fact that Libby is really 17 years old. I know better. She's just three. If I simply keep repeating that long enough to myself, it will become a fact.

"Daddy!" She admonishes me while whacking my arm. What is it with my girls and whacking me like that? "Be nice!"

"You can never be too careful about stuff like that, Lib." She merely rolls her eyes at me.

Bella is determined to take pictures, which means that I have to play witness to watching my baby girl being touched by that hornyboy creature with messy hands. If I look at him straight on, I swear I can read his mind.

_How hard will it be to get that dress off? It looks complicated. But then again, figure that out, then I'll get sex in the back seat. Sex in the closet. Sex against the car._

I don't like it.

No, I don't like it one bit.

Bella nudges me and whispers. "Settle down, sheriff. She's going to be fine. He's a really nice kid, which you would know if you sat down to talk to him the other night."

Bella is referring to the kid's brown nose session with us. He came over to butter us up, all just to establish a pretense to molest my daughter tonight. I conveniently had work to finish up, so I was unavailable.

I keep my arms crossed. That kid isn't fooling anyone. I should know. I wasn't much different when I was his age. Jesus, Bella knows what guys are like, she married _me_ for crying out loud. How can she think that any guy is good enough to touch our baby girl?

"Okay, Sam, why don't you lean in and give Libby a kiss on the cheek so I can snap another picture?"

_Is she fucking kidding me? _

She's letting him kiss our baby girl, in front of us? Oh, _hell_ no! She knows as well as I do that recent research has proven that men think about sex, food and sleep all day long. Since this is an adolescent male, that equation becomes SEX, food and sleep. I need to nip this shit in the bud, STAT.

"I think it's time for them to get moving along, Bella. You don't want them to be late for their dinner reservations, after all," I explain as I yank my daughter away from her date under the pretense of giving her a big hug. That gesture, in and of itself, should have been a huge red flag to this horny teenage spunkboy.

I start to tug Libby toward the door, only to hear him say, "Oh, I think we have plenty of time for a kiss before we're late for our reservation."

My eyes wide, I turn around and look at this insane boy. Does he have a complete inability to read social cues? Does he have a death wish? Is he suicidal? He's becoming less and less of a candidate for my daughter's heart by the minute. And just to be clear, he was never really a viable candidate. He's on shaky legs with me, to be sure.

My daughter knows me well, and seeing the look in my eyes, convinces Sam that it _is_ in their best interest to avoid the kiss if they want to ever leave this house alive. "It's fine, Sam. Let's just err on the side of caution. Nothing wrong with being early."

She's such a sensible girl. Clearly, we share DNA.

She turns around to give us both a quick hug, and before I know it, she's gone. Out there. With a horny teenage boy, one who thinks about SEX, SEX, SEX, food and sleep, all day long.

I don't like this. I want to sit by the door and wait until Libby is safely back at home. My stomach is upset, and my mouth feels dry.

Bella's hands find their way to my face and they softly cup my cheeks.

"It's part of the process, sweets. She's supposed to grow up and leave us. That's just how it works."

I pout my bottom lip at her to show my unhappiness with said process. She runs her thumb over it, and then pulls me down for a kiss.

I'm instantly reminded that while my daughter might be gone, my wife is very much present—right here, right now. If there is one sure cure for my anxious brain, it's spending some quality time with my Bella. I quirk an eyebrow at her, my inquiry unspoken, and she smiles broadly in return.

She slaps my ass. "You're such a horny bastard. I thought time might slow you down, but apparently not."

"What? Like you aren't thinking the same thing? You're the one whose mantra has always been 'sex every day is the only way.'"

She just shakes her head, as if to convey her innocence. Fortunately, I know better.

"Get your hot little ass over here, baby," I croon to her, and aid her effort by cupping said ass in my hand and pulling her in close. "I haven't had my sex for the day yet."

"Just think, we can make all the sex noises we want and don't have to worry about embarrassing our daughter for once!"

I just smirk at her. That's like a challenge, and as if I'm going to turn that down. She's going to be screaming my name before I'm done with her.

I don't waste any time. I promptly pull off Bella's shirt and get my hands on her tits before she even realizes what I've done. It makes me so proud of my lightning quick reflexes. She still has her nipple piercings, after all these years, and it still makes me hard the minute I see them. I fiddle with them, because I know what happens when I do it just right…

"Gah, Edward!"

_Bingo_.

As I get all smug knowing that I can still make her say my name, I turn around to lean her into the wall and give her a nice grind as our lips find where they belong. Where they've always belonged.

She never fails to remind me, in words or actions, what a fucking lucky bastard I am.

"Bring me upstairs, cowboy," she whispers in my ear. I do as she says, because I'm not firing with all my neurons—my cock is too busy responding to Bella's body.

Do I even have a daughter? I have some vague memory of her, but I'm too lost in my head with Bella to care much about that right now.

Somehow, in between kisses, moans, and spanks, I manage to get Bella upstairs and into our bedroom. I throw her onto the bed, and she giggles.

I start to remove her remaining clothing slowly, so I can appreciate unveiling her body. I love it that I'm the only man who gets to see this. It doesn't matter how much time passes, she'll never be less than beautiful to me. Her figure may have softened, but the curves still belong to me, and I love them all.

My hands slowly retrace every line of her body, marveling at the exquisite beauty I find underneath my fingertips. Her nipples come to attention and I get impatient—they're just calling out for my lips. How can I possibly refuse? I circle my tongue over one of them, then pull back to blow on the wet surface. She doesn't say anything, she merely works her fingers into my hair, tugging at it in her excitement.

"Mmm, more," she coaxes me. "More."

I give her other nipple the same loving affection. I wouldn't want it to feel left out.

Bella suddenly jerks her head off of the mattress. "Hey, how come you're still dressed? That is so unfair."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way. I didn't think you would mind the extra attention."

"I mind not being able to get at your good bits. I don't like it when they're all covered up."

I stand up and dutifully remove my clothes for her. Her hands reach straight for my cock. Some things never change.

"What are you looking so smug about?" she asks.

"How you always go straight for the junk, every single time," I smile. "Good to know it still does something for you."

She gives me a nice squeeze and ratchets up the tension by another level. God, do I want her.

"Oh, yes, it still does something for me. I don't think that will ever change."

I move southbound, opening her lips. I give her a soft kiss right over her clit and hear her gasp in response. I'll never get over what a privilege it is to be with her like this. I smile at the thought, and her hands pull my head up.

"What?"

"Just as I suspected. You're wasting valuable crimples down there."

"Well, I can certainly stop what I'm doing…"

"Don't you even think about it," she warns. "Just save the crimples for later."

"Yes, ma'am."

As I return to my previous position, I slide my tongue over her, trying to show her what she means to me. She has no idea, really, just how much her beautiful pussy has played a role in the most important moments in my life. She's put up with cramps and bleeding, the discomfort of pregnancy, and the sheer pain and marathon effort of delivering our incredible daughter. Every time I need to be in her, when I need to feel her reassuring warmth surrounding me, she takes me in, willingly, lovingly, and makes me whole.

I feel the familiar tug of her hands in my hair, and I know she's close. I move my tongue over her clit, sucking on it, giving her what she needs. When her hands stop moving, and her hips arch up just so, I know I've gotten her where she needs to be. Within a few moments, her hands are free of tension, and I know it's safe to slide into a new position. I lay on top of her, my body weight resting mainly on my forearms.

"And there are my crimples." She smiles before she kisses me. "I love you, Edward. So much."

I return her kiss briefly. "Baby, love isn't even adequate enough to express how deeply you are woven into my life. I need new words to describe how much you mean to me."

I lift one of her legs and place it on my shoulder, then glide easily inside of my Bella. We know each other's bodies so well at this point, joining together like this is as easy as breathing. I'm not in any particular hurry as I begin to move inside her. Where once it would be all about speed and depth, now it's more about extending the satisfaction. Our orgasms don't build up as quickly as they once did, but that just means more time for us to enjoy the pleasure of being together.

Eventually, I pick up my tempo, and the headboard begins its familiar _thunk thunk thunk_ against the wall. If we were smarter, we would have abandoned the headboard altogether so as not to give ourselves away, but I guess we're just slow learners. While Libby is mortified that Bella and I are so obvious about our nightly couplings, I don't think it's a bad thing. Instead of worrying about the prospect that her parents might someday break up, Libby has always known how undeniable my connection to her mother is. In fact, I think it's the best kind of example, to show her that two people can be so steadfastly in love with each other after all this time. Bella is no less sexually attractive to me now as she was when I first laid eyes upon her as a med student.

I glance down at Bella's face, and her tits that move in time with each of my thrusts. I start to curl my hips up trying to hit her G-spot, and her answering _fuck, fuck, fuck Edward, fuck!_ tells me that I'm right on target. I'm close, and I want here there with me at the end. Soon, the build becomes too much, and I simply have to let go. With a loud groan, I empty inside her. She pulls me down, hugging me closely, while we wait for our heartbeats to slow down. I pull the covers over our bodies and snuggle into my wife's side.

Suddenly, I hear a loud ping. Bella's phone.

She groans about having to move from her comfortable spot and reaches over to pluck her phone from the bedside table.

I watch her read it while staying snuggled close by her side. Her face blossoms with a proud smile.

"What's that for?" I ask.

She shows the phone me, and it's a picture of a radiant Libby and her date as they arrive at the dance. She has the same exact smile on her face that her mother does.

"Well, she might not have your crimples, but she's as good looking as her father, to be sure."

"I was just thinking about how your smiles are exactly alike."

"That's because we both love you so much. We can't help ourselves."

I pull my wife down closer to me and kiss her forehead. "The only way I can bear to allow my baby to grow up is knowing that you'll always be here."

"Yes, but I also know that you're going to smother her if you keep up with your interrogation routine every time she goes out with someone," she nudges my side.

"What?" I ask, knowingly. "What kind of father would I be if I didn't do a little reconnaissance ahead of time?"

"A normal one."

"Now, why would I ever want to be normal when I can be extraordinary?" I grin at her.

"An extraordinary _ass_, absolutely."

"I'm wounded. How can you even say such things?" I mock. "Everything I do is for the sole purpose of keeping our girl safe."

"Uh-huh. Sure. You almost convinced me just then," Bella rolls her eyes at me.

"Thank you," I say quietly, kissing her forehead once again.

"What's that for?"

"Just thank you. For everything. For letting me live this incredible life with you. For all you went through to bring our Libby into the world. Everything that's important to me stems from being with you. You're such an amazing woman, and I'm really glad that you're mine."

"Of course I'm yours. Who else could I have possibly wanted besides you? And don't forget, you gave Libby to me, too. I didn't do any of that on my own."

I flip Bella's body so that her back is facing me and form my own body into hers. I whisper into her ear how much I love her, and she turns her face to return my sentiment and gives me a tender kiss. As we fall asleep, loving and being loved, I realize that my world is as perfect as it gets.

**END NOTE: This outtake is the last part of TNJ. I can't swear that there won't be another outtake at some point, but as of right now, I'm pretty sure this is it. Thank you so much for sharing this story with me, and for giving me your time and your attention. I'm incredibly grateful that you wanted to read my little story. **


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